Part 74 (1/2)

Yet no shady vale can stay him, Nor can flowers, Round his knees all-softly twining With their loving eyes detain him; To the plain his course he taketh, Serpent-winding,

Social streamlets Join his waters. And now moves he O'er the plain in silv'ry glory, And the plain in him exults, And the rivers from the plain, And the streamlets from the mountain, Shout with joy, exclaiming: ”Brother, Brother, take thy brethren with thee, With thee to thine aged father, To the everlasting ocean, Who, with arms outstretching far, Waiteth for us; Ah, in vain those arms lie open To embrace his yearning children; For the thirsty sand consumes us In the desert waste; the sunbeams Drink our life-blood; hills around us Into lakes would dam us! Brother, Take thy brethren of the plain, Take thy brethren of the mountain With thee, to thy father's arms!

Let all come, then!-- And now swells he Lordlier still; yea, e'en a people Bears his regal flood on high!

And in triumph onward rolling, Names to countries gives he,--cities Spring to light beneath his foot.

Ever, ever, on he rushes, Leaves the towers' flame-tipp'd summits, Marble palaces, the offspring Of his fullness, far behind.

Cedar-houses bears the Atlas On his giant shoulders; flutt'ring In the breeze far, far above him Thousand flags are gaily floating, Bearing witness to his might.

And so beareth he his brethren, All his treasures, all his children, Wildly shouting, to the bosom Of his long-expectant sire.

1774.

----- SPIRIT SONG OVER THE WATERS.

THE soul of man Resembleth water: From heaven it cometh, To heaven it soareth.

And then again To earth descendeth, Changing ever.

Down from the lofty Rocky wall Streams the bright flood, Then spreadeth gently In cloudy billows O'er the smooth rock, And welcomed kindly, Veiling, on roams it, Soft murmuring, Tow'rd the abyss.

Cliffs projecting Oppose its progress,-- Angrily foams it Down to the bottom, Step by step.

Now, in flat channel, Through the meadowland steals it, And in the polish'd lake Each constellation Joyously peepeth.

Wind is the loving Wooer of waters; Wind blends together Billows all-foaming.

Spirit of man, Thou art like unto water!

Fortune of man, Thou art like unto wind!

1789.*

----- MY G.o.dDESS.

SAY, which Immortal Merits the highest reward?

With none contend I, But I will give it To the aye-changing, Ever-moving Wondrous daughter of Jove.

His best-beloved offspring.

Sweet Phantasy.

For unto her Hath he granted All the fancies which erst To none allow'd he Saving himself; Now he takes his pleasure In the mad one.

She may, crowned with roses, With staff twined round with lilies, Roam thro' flow'ry valleys, Rule the b.u.t.terfly-people, And soft-nouris.h.i.+ng dew With bee-like lips Drink from the blossom:

Or else she may With fluttering hair And gloomy looks Sigh in the wind Round rocky cliffs, And thousand-hued.

Like morn and even.

Ever changing, Like moonbeam's light, To mortals appear.

Let us all, then, Adore the Father!

The old, the mighty, Who such a beauteous Ne'er-fading spouse Deigns to accord To peris.h.i.+ng mortals!

To us alone Doth he unite her, With heavenly bonds, While he commands her, in joy and sorrow, As a true spouse Never to fly us.