Count Anton Alexander von Auersperg, also known under the pen name of Anastasius Grün (1806-1876), was an Austrian poet and liberal politician. Born in the capital of the Austrian Duchy of Carniola, he received his education first at the University of Graz, then at Vienna, where he studied jurisprudence.
In 1830, Auersperg succeeded to his ancestral property, and in 1832 appeared as a member at the Estates of Carniola on the Herrenbank of the diet in Laibach. Here he distinguished himself by his outspoken criticism of the Austrian government, leading the opposition of the duchy to the exactions of the central power. In 1832 the title of imperial chamberlain was conferred upon him.
After the Revolution of 1848 in Vienna, he represented the district of Laibach in the German Frankfort Parliament, to which he tried in vain to persuade his Slovene compatriots to send representatives. In 1861 he was nominated a life member of the Austrian upper house (Herrenhaus).
Count Auersperg's first publication, a collection of lyrics, Blätter der Liebe (1830); his second production, Der letzte Ritter (1830), brought his genius to light. It celebrates the deeds and adventures of the emperor Maximilian (1499-1519) in a cycle of poems written in the strophic rhyme of the Nibelungenlied. But Auersperg's fame rests almost exclusively on his political poetry; two collections entitled Spaziergänge eines Wiener Poeten (1831) and Schutt (1835) created a sensation in Germany by their originality and bold Realism. These two books, which are remarkable not merely for their outspoken opinions, but also for their easy versification and powerful imagery, were the forerunners of the German political poetry of 1840-1848.
Shedding from the mirrors' crystal thousand-fold reflected beams.
Honored, venerable matrons, ladies young and very fair.
Here the valiant sons of battle, there the rulers of the land.
Few indeed among the chosen have the courage to draw near.
He who in the Princes' Congress for them all must act and think.
And how modest, unassuming, and how kind to great and small!
Or when, from anointed heads, the royal crowns away he hurls.
For ever banished from the earth—by steam!
That long, straight lines must grieve a Poet's eye?
Is just five miles an hour the Poet's pace?
And must not Pegasus attempt to fly?
And chase the goddess borne away by steam!
Can tell you nothing of your poetry.
Takes with a bow and drops into his bag.
With towers and battlements, to victory.
Share in his grandsons' rapture and surprise!
Dales, corn and meadow land!
The pledge of love she gave me.
When last we bade adieu.
Gazed down upon the world.
Flee to a distant clime.
Man and his dwelling land.
By love's gold circle spanned.
Excerpt, "Translations From The German Poets." Edward Stanhope Pearson. 1879..
One who cold and lifeless lies?
Many a hope and many a heart.
Those whose tears are never dry.
Throws him into glad surprise?
Lie within thy crystal heart.
Such the flowers thy depths which fill.
Meeting, passing to and fro.
Ocean to thee raise my voice?
After all I have no choice.
Trees at dawn and sunset rise.
Fatherland with thoughts that burn.
When I saw thee first appear.
Excerpt, "The Last Knight: A Romance Garland from the German of Anastasius Grün." Translated by John O. Sargent. 1871.
And in the vaunted windows his grim artillery planted.
Carried a beating heart with him—no matter where he went.
Where are you, imperial eagles? What has frightened you away?
Or saw he the smiling morrow, after the stormy night?
Hark, the clangour of drums and trumpets! How it howls and rages and cracks!
"Hie, up and in, my brothers!" How thunders the voice of Max!
If an emperor there were sleeping he would now be sure to awake.
Are you climbing up the window of a pretty little maid?
She weaves a ruby coronet, to decorate your head.
"Hush, friend, and were I pallid how otherwise could it be?
"You sight's at fault, good fellow, the red you need not mind.
Like flakes of blossoms in spring-time, a shower of bullets falls.
And there a lofty parapet with a crash of thunder tumbles.
Now merrily thrills the drum-beat, and hark to the victor's cry!
And from the ancestral castle the flag of Hapsburg floats.
Like monumental seraphim, the living Magyars stand.
He spake; a fever seized him, and blood burst from his wound.
Soon from a heavy slumber, thanks to the Lord! He woke.
And thus the winds of the Occident wafted the song to him.
Before they bandage his wounds with the banners of victory.
A novel-length Life Ballad of Maximilian I (1459-1519), Holy Roman Emperor, King in Germany, of Hungary, Dalmatia, Croatia, etc. Archduke of Austria, Duke of Burgundy, Brabant, Lorraine, Styria, Carinthia, Carniola, Limburg, Luxembourg, Gelderland, Landgrave of Alsace, Prince of Swabia, Count Palatine of Burgundy, Princely Count of Habsburg, Hainaut, Flanders, Tyrol, Gorizia, Artois, Holland, Seeland, Ferrette, Kyburg, Namur, Zutphen, Margrave of the Holy Roman Empire, the Enns, Burgau, Lord of Frisia, the Wendish March, Pordenone, Salins, Mechelen, etc.
Matthias Corvin, King of Hungary, the most illustrious monarch of his age, had been for 30 years the plague of the emperor, and had overrun Austria and taken Vienna in 1485. Frederick was unwilling to pay the 700,000 florins he demanded for the evacuation of his territory; and the more so because the astrologers had predicted the king's death in 1490. In that year, it occurred.
Maximilian raised an army of several thousand men, and entered Vienna amid the acclamations of its citizens. The citadel, occupied by an Hungarian garrison, resisted successfully two storming parties, in one of which the king who led it was wounded. On the tenth day the garrison surrendered, and its fall was followed by the early surrender of other strongholds and the expulsion of the Hungarians from Austria.
And the old days rustle round it still, in legends quaint and solemn.
Sinks down upon thy heart inspiration from the skies.
Around green woods and mountains, streams, meadows, and crops like gold.
God's scroll of benedictions before thee lies unroll'd.
Like white lambs by the side of the greater cattle seen.
With beaming helm and armour, and banner, shield and spear.
As a snake of a magician lies in watch before his gold.
The hostile flag of Hungary, wild blowing, floats the air.
Or did the Hungarian pasture his horse upon the plain?
At night alone he rifles his vineyard's purple wealth.
There is little left to pray for where Thrift with Freedom dwells.
"Deliverance shall give thee prosperity and rest!
Truth shines as thy escutcheon, hold fast the diamond shield!
And silver are thy highways, and golden are thy hills.
Despair thine only chorus, and Truth thine only good!
"Thou city of my fathers! What a sad meeting ours!
Must crackling garlands of fire about thy turrets swing.
Anton Alexander von Auersperg: This writer, belonging to the noble and princely house of Auersperg, was born April 11, 1806.He is known under the poetical pseudonym of Anastasius Grün.His poem entitled "The Last Knight" appeared in Munich in 1831; and his piece called "Walks of a Poet in Vienna" have gained him great celebrity, and placed him among the best of the living German Poets.Translated by N.L. Frothingham.
He is the last man too.
And views it with a smile.