PAUL FLEMING

(1609-1640)

EW names in that sterile period of German history which followed the century of the Reformation have won a lasting place in literature. In Gryphius the most gifted dramatist, in Opitz the greatest literary influence, and in Fleming the most genuine lyric poet of his time, the spirit of German letters still flickered; and Fleming, though humbly subordinating himself to the domination of Opitz, was nevertheless the genius in whom the spirit shone brightest.

Paul Fleming was born on October 5th, 1609, and the years of his brief life were those of universal disaster, when Germany was made

PAUL FLEMING

the battle-ground of the contending nations. Fleming studied medicine in Leipsic, but meanwhile devoted himself so ardently to the development of his poetic gifts, that while still a student he received the Imperial crown of poetry. In 1630 he met Opitz, who, with a group of new German poets in his train, held the leadership of what is known to students as the First Silesian School. Fleming's reverence for this skillful but mechanical versifier was unbounded. It was not until three days before his early death that Fleming seemed to catch a glimpse of his own superiority; in the touching lines which he composed as his own epitaph, he wrote, "No countryman of mine sang like me;" and certain it is that in his work is displayed more spontaneity and greater depth of feeling than in that of the more famous leader. There is a strain of lofty pathos in Fleming's poetry that reminds of Schiller; and if it sometimes has a hollow sound, that lay in the character of the unreal time when the nations were fighting for moribund ideas, and when thought was sicklied o'er with the cast of pseudo-classical affectation. Brave men were exalted as gods and faithful officials as heroes, with the entire apparatus of mythological metaphor. And yet in Fleming's verse is revealed a deep and genuine piety, a broad humanity, and a healthy patriotism. His religious poems, through which he strove to keep his mind fixed

above the strife of parties and the demoralizing cruelty of that time of incessant war, are still favorites in the German hymnals of to-day. His love lyrics and sonnets, not always free from the affectations of his school, are yet the expression of true feeling and delicate fancy. The destruction of Meissen and the death of Gustavus Adolphus were among the saddening experiences of Fleming's early life, but it was not to escape the disquieting events at home that sent him on distant travels: it was rather passion for travel and a love of the exotic. This passion found gratification in the appointment he received as a member of a Holstein embassy to Russia and Persia, in the service of which nearly six years of his life were passed. It was a life full of adventure by land and sea; there were bloody encounters in Persia, and twice the party suffered shipwreck. It was an experience that greatly widened the scope of his poetic material, as the Oriental coloring of the poems written during those six years shows.

Fleming's love life had its sorrows: the woman of his choice, during his long absence in the East, married another; he thereupon became engaged to a younger sister, who had in the mean time ripened into womanhood. They were to be married in Hamburg; but while he was awaiting her arrival, he fell sick and died, on April 2d, 1640, in his thirty-first year.

Fleming never won the high place in the estimation of the great contemporary public to which his genius entitled him; formalism prevailed, Opitz overshadowed him, the war crushed all but martial genius. Many of Fleming's poems have been lost, but enough remain to justify the claim that he was the one genuinely inspired lyric poet of the period of the Thirty Years' War.

Only be steadfast; never waver,

Nor seek earth's favor,

But rest:

Thou knowest what God wills must be

For all his creatures, so for thee,

The best.

Translation of Catherine Winkworth.

ON A LONG AND PERILOUS JOURNEY

WRITTEN ON A JOURNEY TO RUSSIA AND PERSIA, UNDERTAKEN BY THE AUTHOR AS PHYSICIAN TO THE EMBASSY FROM HOLSTEIN

Though I have sinned, he will not straight Pronounce his judgment,- he will wait, Have patience with me yet.

I travel to a distant land

To serve the post wherein I stand,
Which he hath bade me fill;
And he will bless me with his light,
That I may serve his world aright,
And make me know his will.

And though through desert wilds I fare,
Yet Christian friends are with me there,
And Christ himself is near;

In all our dangers he will come,
And he who kept me safe at home
Can keep me safely here.

Yes, he will speed us on our way,
And point us where to go and stay,
And help us still and lead;

Let us in health and safety live,
And time and wind and weather give,
And whatsoe'er we need.

When late at night my rest I take,
When early in the morn I wake,
Halting or on my way,

In hours of weakness or in bonds,
When vexed with fears my heart desponds,
His promise is my stay.

Since, then, my course is traced by him,

I will not fear that future dim,

But go to meet my doom,

Well knowing naught can wait me there
Too hard for me through him to bear;
I yet shall overcome.

To him myself I wholly give,
At his command I die or live,
I trust his love and power:
Whether to-morrow or to-day
His summons come, I will obey,-
He knows the proper hour.

But if it please that love most kind,
And if this voice within my mind
Be whispering not in vain,

I yet shall praise my God ere long
In many a sweet and joyful song,
In peace at home again.

To those I love will he be near,
With his consoling light appear,

Who is my shield and theirs;
And he will grant beyond our thought
What they and I alike have sought
With many tearful prayers.

Then, O my soul, be ne'er afraid;
On Him who thee and all things made
With calm reliance rest;

Whate'er may come, where'er we go,
Our Father in the heavens must know
In all things what is best.

S

TO MY RING

GO, fair emerald; my loving message take

To her who has my heart, and rest thou well content
That henceforth thou art hers to whom I have thee sent;

Thy purity her hand will only purer make.

Be with her if she sleep; be with her if she wake;

She'll ask thee oft of me and what thy message meant. Be thou like other gems: within thy brightness pent, Keep what thou seest hid, for her and my sweet sake. And if it come to pass that she, in thoughts half lost, Should press her lips to thee, then save the kiss for me Until the evening come. Unless the zephyrs see The imprint of her kiss, and, enviously crossed, Demand to bring it me, ere I to claim it go,

Then send it me by them, and let no mortal know.

Translation of Charles Harvey Genung.