The free lance. (Fredericksburg, Va.) 1885-1926, 1900-03-22
THE ROMANCE
OF A POET.

1t was Germany in the middle Of the
last century.
Herr Klopstock, with his soul In his
words, was writing his wonderful po-
EN-, the Messiah"
He did not know II was to bring MIN
fame as the first Of the great German
poets. He did not even guess that II
was to win love for him.
lie published It and then waited.
In Hamburg Meta Moller read the
great poem and was charmed by IT,.
She talked Of 1t; she wrote Of it to her
friends. Every one knew Meta longed
to meet the poet.
Then he came TO Hamburg, and n
friend told him Of Meta and showed
her letters, full Of praises Of his poem.
His interest was awakened, and he
went TO see her.
He found n beautiful girl, with long
1axen bralds OF hair and deep blue
ewes. The dainty freshness Of her fair
face was Frightened by the pale blue
bodice she wore.
But Klopstock scarcely noticed her
lovellness. He thought only Of her
mind. They talked Of his poem, then
OF others. Meta had read much. She
knew the language Of literature OF 9th
or countries besides her own.
But she was not only learncd-she
was gentle and sympathetic Soon the
poet was telling her of his early strug-
giles and Of his heartaches for n lost
love.
"But why do | tell you my troubles
Fraulein Mollerf" he said wonderingly
81 am almost n stranger to you"
"You are not stranger to me-" re-
piled Meta softly. 81 have known you
long time"
For few days they saw each other
constantly. Metas sympathy had cas-
ed the pain at the poets heart When
they parted, It was with promises to
write.
For eight months they correspondent
but not as lovers. They wrote only OF
poetry, philosophy - never OF them
selves.
Then Herr Klopstock returned tc
Hamburg.
Meta" he cried 81 have learned tC
love you" But the girl was troubled
"Why do you talk Of loyeY she said
eve are friends, dear friends, but only
friends"
For n time he pleaded in vain; Their
she yielded so far as to whisper
wait"
The end Of the year came and with
It Meta's lover
She did not meet him as before, with
frank. kind eyes that gazed straight
into his. Instead she looked shyly
down, and the pink In her cheek deep
ened
"My darling" cried the poet, you
love me- see It in your face. Do
not tell me It is not true"
YES" she confessed. ut Is true
But" seriously. that Is not enough
MY mother will not allow our marriage
There Is some one else. He is rich"
"Who Is heT" exclaimed KlOpstock
hoarsely. He had turned ashen pale.
His name IS August Hoffman. He Is
n merchant and has warehouses and
ships. Alas, he is wealthy" and the
girl sighed.
LET NE see your mother" said Klop
stock eagerly.
ut is useless" replied Meta sadly
But she led him to her mother.
The Frau Moller was obdurate.
81 have my daughters welfare al
heart" she said coldly. You have
fame, 1t is true, but you cannot support
her on that. intend to see that she Is
comfortably settled in life"
But we love each other" entreated
Klopstock. Meta would be happier
with ne, even though we had little
than In luxury with 4 man she did not
love"
"You must allow me to judge what Is
best for my daughter" returned Frat
Moller, much displeased, and, rising
she waved him from the room.
AT least" sobbed Meta, when she
babe her lover farewell, Il cannot be
forced to marry Herr Hoffman. If
may not marry you, | can remain sin
gle"
Frau Moller hoped that Meta would
soon yield and accept the easy life and
luxury which were offered to her. But
time passed on, and she still refused tC
| listen to the man Of her mothers
choice.
Then the mothers heart relented, anc
she rewarded the two years constancy
Of the lovers. With her consent the
poet claimed his bride and carried hel
of to a rose empowered cottage on the
banks Of the beautiful Rhine.
Theirs is q perfect union. Long after
her marriage Meta wrote to friend;
81 can write and speak Of nothing
| now but love. 1t has been all or my
life since first read my dear hus
bands great poem. loved him then
though did not know 1t. Now | am
30 happy In the fulhllment Of my love
His poems are to me like sweetest mu
sic. After all our troubles the great
est Joy Is ours"
And Herr Klopstock said:
1.-THE world calls some of my poem:
great, but greater, grander, sweeteI
than any Of them is the unwritter
poem Of our beautiful lowest Louis
Star.
Ether Drinking In Eastern Prussia
Il 4 II 4 L.