Friedrich Schiller

Pale, at its ghastly noon, Pauses above the death-still wood the moon; The night-sprite, sighing, through the dim air stirs;

Let none resemble another; let each resemble the highest! How can that happen? let each be all complete in itself.

Thy wife is destined to deceive thee! She'll seek another's arms and leave thee, And horns upon thy head will shortly sprout!

Angel-fair, Walhalla's charms displaying, Fairer than all mortal youths was he; Mild his look, as May-day sunbeams straying

APPENDIX. The following variations appear in the first two verses of Hector's Farewell, as given in The Robbers, act ii. scene 2.

To Archimedes once a scholar came, "Teach me," he said, "the art that won thy fame; The godlike art which gives such boons to toil,

Oh, how infinite, how unspeakably great, are the heavens! Yet by frivolity's hand downwards the heavens are pulled!

Twirl him! twirl him! blind and dumb Deaf and dumb, Twirl the cane so troublesome!

Thou in truth shouldst be one, yet not with the whole shouldst thou be so. 'Tis through the reason thou'rt one, art so with it through the heart. Voice of the whole is thy reason, but thou thine own heart must be ever;

Naught is for man so important as rightly to know his own purpose; For but twelve groschen hard cash 'tis to be bought at my shop!

Full many a shining wit one sees, With tongue on all things well conversing; The what can charm, the what can please,

Oh thou degenerate child of the great and glorious mother, Who with the Romans' strong might couplest the Tyrians' deceit! But those ever governed with vigor the earth they had conquered,

Mirth the halls of Troy was filling, Ere its lofty ramparts fell; From the golden lute so thrilling

If thou canst not give pleasure to all by thy deeds and thy knowledge, Give it then, unto the few; many to please is but vain.

Steer on, bold sailor Wit may mock thy soul that sees the land, And hopeless at the helm may droop the weak and weary hand, Yet ever ever to the West, for there the coast must lie,

Free from blemish to be, is the lowest of steps, and highest; Weakness and greatness alone ever arrive at this point.

Now hearken, ye who take delight In boasting of your worth! To many a man, to many a knight,

Deeper and bolder truths be careful, my friends, of avowing; For as soon as ye do all the world on ye will fall.

Most high and mighty Czar of all flesh, ceaseless reducer of empires, unfathomable glutton in the whole realms of nature. With the most profound flesh-creeping I take the liberty of kissing the rattling leg-bones of your voracious Majesty, and humbly laying this little book at your dried-up feet. My predecessors have always been accustomed, as if on purpose to annoy you, to transport their goods and chattels to the archives of eternity, directly under your nose, forgetting that, by so doing, they only made your mouth water the more, for the proverb Stolen bread tastes sweetest is applicable even to you. No! I prefer to dedicate this work to you, feeling assured that you will throw it aside. But, joking apart! methinks we two know each other better than by mere hearsay. Enrolled in the order of Aesculapius, the first-born of Pandora's box, as old as the fall of man, I have stood at your altar,    have sworn undying hatred to your hereditary foe, Nature, as the son of Hamilcar to the seven hills of Rome, have sworn to besiege her with a whole army of medicines, to throw up barricades round the obstinate soul, to drive from the field the insolents who cut down your fees and cripple your finances, and on the Archaean battle-plain to plant your midnight standard. In return (for one good turn deserves another), you must prepare for me the precious TALISMAN, which can save me from the gallows and the wheel uninjured, and with a whole skin

Two are the roads that before thee lie open from life to conduct thee; To the ideal one leads thee, the other to death. See that while yet thou art free, on the first thou commencest thy journey,

A. Hark, neighbor, for one moment stay! Herr Doctor Scalpel, so they say,

Even the moral world its nobility boasts vulgar natures Reckon by that which they do; noble, by that which they are.

Millions busily toil, that the human race may continue; But by only a few is propagated our kind. Thousands of seeds by the autumn are scattered, yet fruit is engendered

Believe me, together The bright gods come ever, Still as of old;

Mournful groans, as when a tempest lowers, Echo from the dreary house of woe; Death-notes rise from yonder minster's towers!

Past the despairing wail And the bright banquets of the Elysian vale Melt every care away!

On every nose he rightly read What intellects were in the head And yet that he was not the one

Here lies a man cut off by fate Too soon for all good men; For sextons he died late too late

(AFTER A PICTURE.) Oh! thou bright-beaming god, the plains are thirsting, Thirsting for freshening dew, and man is pining;

Into life's ocean the youth with a thousand masts daringly launches; Mute, in a boat saved from wreck, enters the gray-beard the port.

Oh, how many new foes against truth! My very soul bleedeth When I behold the owl-race now bursting forth to the light.

Name, my Laura, name the whirl-compelling Bodies to unite in one blest whole Name, my Laura, name the wondrous magic

A maiden blush o'er every feature straying, The Muse her gentle harp now lays down here, And stands before thee, for thy judgment praying,

Man frames his judgment on reason; but woman on love founds her verdict; If her judgment loves not, woman already has judged.

Enraged against a quondam friend, To Wisdom once proud Fortune said "I'll give thee treasures without end,

A gentle was Fridolin, And he his mistress dear, Savern's fair Countess, honored in

Dearly I love a friend; yet a foe I may turn to my profit; Friends show me that which I can; foes teach me that which I should.

[From "Letters of Julius to Raphael," an unpublished Novel.] Friend! the Great Ruler, easily content, Needs not the laws it has laborious been

Each one, when seen by himself, is passably wise and judicious; When they in corpore are, naught but a blockhead is seen.

How does the genius make itself known? In the way that in nature Shows the Creator himself, e'en in the infinite whole. Clear is the ether, and yet of depth that ne'er can be fathomed;

Understanding, indeed, can repeat what already existed, That which Nature has built, after her she, too, can build. Over Nature can reason build, but in vacancy only:

"Do I believe," sayest thou, "what the masters of wisdom would teach me, And what their followers' band boldly and readily swear? Cannot I ever attain to true peace, excepting through knowledge,

Fools we may have in plenty, and simpletons, too, by the dozen; But for comedy these never make use of themselves.

Once for the sceptre of Germany, fought with Bavarian Louis Frederick, of Hapsburg descent, both being called to the throne. But the envious fortune of war delivered the Austrian

Strive, O German, for Roman-like strength and for Grecian-like beauty! Thou art successful in both; ne'er has the Gaul had success.

Thou hast produced mighty monarchs, of whom thou art not unworthy, For the obedient alone make him who governs them great. But, O Germany, try if thou for thy rulers canst make it

Only two virtues exist. Oh, would they were ever united! Ever the good with the great, ever the great with the good!

Scarce has the fever so chilly of Gallomania departed, When a more burning attack in Grecomania breaks out. Greekism, what did it mean? 'Twas harmony, reason, and clearness!

Hark! like the sea in wrath the heavens assailing, Or like a brook through rocky basin wailing, Comes from below, in groaning agony,

[This and the following poem are, with some alterations, introduced in the Play of "The Robbers."] ANDROMACHE. Will Hector leave me for the fatal plain,

See you the towers, that, gray and old, Frown through the sunlight's liquid gold, Steep sternly fronting steep?

Trusty old Homer! to thee I confide the secret so tender; For the raptures of love none but the bard should e'er know.

[Literally "Dignity of Women."] Honor to woman! To her it is given To garden the earth with the roses of heaven!

[Dignities would be the better title, if the word were not so essentially unpoetical.] When the column of light on the waters is glassed, As blent in one glow seem the shine and the stream;

We speak with the lip, and we dream in the soul, Of some better and fairer day; And our days, the meanwhile, to that golden goal

Where the pathway begins, eternity seems to lie open, Yet at the narrowest point even the wisest man stops.

Since thou readest in her what thou thyself hast there written, And, to gladden the eye, placest her wonders in groups; Since o'er her boundless expanses thy cords to extend thou art able,

Joy, thou goddess, fair, immortal, Offspring of Elysium, Mad with rapture, to the portal

'Twixt the heavens and earth, high in the airy ocean, In the tempest's cradle I'm borne with a rocking motion; Clouds are towering,

Dreadest thou the aspect of death! Thou wishest to live on forever? Live in the whole, and when long thou shalt have gone, 'twill remain!

God alone sees the heart and therefore, since he alone sees it, Be it our care that we, too, something that's worthy may see.

All, both in prose and in verse, in Germany fast is decaying; Far behind us, alas, lieth the golden age now! For by philosophers spoiled is our language our logic by poets,

'Twas not my nectar made thy strength divine, But 'twas thy strength which made my nectar thine!

See how a single rich man gives a living to numbers of beggars! 'Tis when sovereigns build, carters are kept in employ.

(WHEN THEIR MINIATURES WERE HANGING SIDE BY SIDE.) In truth, when I have crossed dark Lethe's river, The man upon the right I'll love forever,

Knowledge to one is a goddess both heavenly and high, to another Only an excellent cow, yielding the butter he wants.

Why can the living spirit be never seen by the spirit? Soon as the soul 'gins to speak, then can the soul speak no more!

Thou that art ever the same, with the changeless One take up thy dwelling! Color, thou changeable one, kindly descends upon man!

In cheerful faith that fears no ill The good man doth the world begin; And dreams that all without shall still

Could I from this valley drear, Where the mist hangs heavily, Soar to some more blissful sphere,

Rightly said, Schlosser! Man loves what he has; what he has not, desireth; None but the wealthy minds love; poor minds desire alone.

Majesty of the nature of man! In crowds shall I seek thee? 'Tis with only a few that thou hast made thine abode. Only a few ever count; the rest are but blanks of no value,

I am a man! Let every one Who is a man, too, spring With joy beneath God's shining sun,

Laura! a sunrise seems to break Where'er thy happy looks may glow. Joy sheds its roses o'er thy cheek,

'Tis ended! Welcome! 'tis ended Oh thou sinner majestic,

I have a heartfelt aversion for crime, a twofold aversion, Since 'tis the reason why man prates about virtue so much. "What! thou hatest, then, virtue?" I would that by all it were practised,

Which religion do I acknowledge? None that thou namest. "None that I name? And why so?" Why, for religion's own sake?

See, he sitteth on his mat Sitteth there upright, With the grace with which he sat

Even the beauteous must die! This vanquishes men and immortals; But of the Stygian god moves not the bosom of steel. Once and once only could love prevail on the ruler of shadows,

Enmity be between ye! Your union too soon is cemented; Ye will but learn to know truth when ye divide in the search.

Fair bride, attended by our blessing, Glad Hymen's flowery path 'gin pressing! We witnessed with enraptured eye

Seeking to find his home, Odysseus crosses each water; Through Charybdis so dread; ay, and through Scylla's wild yells, Through the alarms of the raging sea, the alarms of the land too,

I. A bridge of pearls its form uprears High o'er a gray and misty sea;

E'en by the hand of the wicked can truth be working with vigor; But the vessel is filled by what is beauteous alone.

Once to a horse-fair, it may perhaps have been Where other things are bought and sold, I mean At the Haymarket, there the muses' horse

All that thou doest is right; but, friend, don't carry this precept On too far, be content, all that is right to effect. It is enough to true zeal, if what is existing be perfect;

What wonder this? we ask the lympid well, O earth! of thee and from thy solemn womb What yieldest thou? is there life in the abyss

(TO BE SUNG IN NORTHERN COUNTRIES.) On the mountain's breezy summit, Where the southern sunbeams shine,

Four elements, joined in Harmonious strife, Shadow the world forth,

You tell me that you feel surprise Because Quirl's paper's grown in size; And yet they're crying through the street

From earth I seem to wing my flight, And sun myself in Heaven's pure light, When thy sweet gaze meets mine

Maiden, stay! oh, whither wouldst thou go? Do I still or pride or grandeur show? Maiden, was it right?

Yes! even I was in Arcadia born, And, in mine infant ears, A vow of rapture was by Nature sworn;

Monument of our own age's shame, On thy country casting endless blame, Rousseau's grave, how dear thou art to me

Let the creative art breathe life, and the bard furnish spirit; But the soul is expressed by Polyhymnia alone.

Dramatis Personae. JUNO. SEMELE, Princess of Thebes.

I, too, at length discerned great Hercules' energy mighty, Saw his shade. He himself was not, alas, to be seen. Round him were heard, like the screaming of birds, the screams of tragedians,

A mighty oak here ruined lies, Its top was wont to kiss the skies, Why is it now o'erthrown?

Both of us seek for truth in the world without thou dost seek it, I in the bosom within; both of us therefore succeed. If the eye be healthy, it sees from without the Creator;

Wilt thou not the lambkins guard? Oh, how soft and meek they look, Feeding on the grassy sward,

Nowhere in the organic or sensitive world ever kindles Novelty, save in the flower, noblest creation of life.

Thou hast crossed over torrents, and swung through wide-spreading ocean, Over the chain of the Alps dizzily bore thee the bridge, That thou might'st see me from near, and learn to value my beauty,

That which Grecian art created, Let the Frank, with joy elated, Bear to Seine's triumphant strand,

Wouldst thou give pleasure at once to the children of earth and the righteous? Draw the image of lust adding the devil as well!

How gracefully, O man, with thy palm-bough, Upon the waning century standest thou, In proud and noble manhood's prime,

Hear I the creaking gate unclose? The gleaming latch uplifted? No - 'twas the wind that, whirring, rose,

Dost thou desire the good in art? Of the good art thou worthy, Which by a ne'er ceasing war 'gainst thee thyself is produced?

Earthly gods my lyre shall win your praise, Though but wont its gentle sounds to raise When the joyous feast the people throng;

Say, where is now that glorious race, where now are the singers Who, with the accents of life, listening nations enthralled, Sung down from heaven the gods, and sung mankind up to heaven,

Heavy and solemn, A cloudy column, Through the green plain they marching came!

I can recognize only as such, the one that enables Each to think what is right, but that he thinks so, cares not.

"How can I know the best state?" In the way that thou know'st the best woman; Namely, my friend, that the world ever is silent of both.

[In spite of Mr. Carlyle's assertion of Schiller's "total deficiency in humor," [12] we think that the following poem suffices to show that he possessed the gift in no ordinary degree, and that if the aims of a genius so essentially earnest had allowed him to indulge it he would have justified the opinion of the experienced Iffland as to his capacities for original comedy.] Can I, my friend, with thee condole? Can I conceive the woes that try men,

All, thou gentle one, lies embraced in thy kingdom; the graybeard Back to the days of his youth, childish and child-like, returns.

Where will a place of refuge, noble friend, For peace and freedom ever open lie! The century in tempests had its end,

See how we hate, how we quarrel, how thought and how feeling divide us! But thy locks, friend, like mine, meanwhile are bleachening fast.

Does pleasant spring return once more? Does earth her happy youth regain? Sweet suns green hills are shining o'er;

No! I this conflict longer will not wage, The conflict duty claims the giant task; Thy spells, O virtue, never can assuage

How does nature proceed to unite the high and the lowly In mankind? She commands vanity 'tween them to stand!

At Aix-la-Chapelle, in imperial array, In its halls renowned in old story, At the coronation banquet so gay

Once to the song and chariot-fight, Where all the tribes of Greece unite On Corinth's isthmus joyously,

Into the sieve we've been pouring for years, o'er the stone we've been brooding; But the stone never warms, nor does the sieve ever fill.

See how, like lightest waves at play, the airy dancers fleet; And scarcely feels the floor the wings of those harmonious feet. Ob, are they flying shadows from their native forms set free?

Why are taste and genius so seldom met with united? Taste of strength is afraid, genius despises the rein.

Merely because thou hast made a good verse in a language poetic, One which composes for thee, thou art a poet forsooth!

"What knight or what vassal will be so bold As to plunge in the gulf below? See! I hurl in its depths a goblet of gold,

"Take the world!" Zeus exclaimed from his throne in the skies To the children of man "take the world I now give; It shall ever remain as your heirloom and prize,

Ever strive for the whole; and if no whole thou canst make thee, Join, then, thyself to some whole, as a subservient limb!

Wreathe in a garland the corn's golden ear! With it, the Cyane [31] blue intertwine Rapture must render each glance bright and clear,

Giddily onward it bears thee with resistless impetuous billows; Naught but the ocean and air seest thou before or behind.

If thou never hast gazed upon beauty in moments of sorrow, Thou canst with truth never boast that thou true beauty hast seen. If thou never hast gazed upon gladness in beauteous features,

Work as much as thou wilt, alone thou'lt be standing forever, Till by nature thou'rt joined forcibly on to the whole.

Once more, then, we meet In the circles of yore; Let our song be as sweet

Fame with the vulgar expires; but, Muse immortal, thou bearest Those whom thou lovest, who love thee, into Mnemosyne's arms.

Priam's castle-walls had sunk, Troy in dust and ashes lay, And each Greek, with triumph drunk,

Why run the crowd? What means the throng That rushes fast the streets along? Can Rhodes a prey to flames, then, be?

Ye offspring of the morning sun, Ye flowers that deck the smiling plain, Your lives, in joy and bliss begun,

Ah! happy he, upon whose birth each god Looks down in love, whose earliest sleep the bright Idalia cradles, whose young lips the rod

Woman, never judge man by his individual actions; But upon man as a whole, pass thy decisive decree.

Trust me, 'tis not a mere tale, the fountain of youth really runneth, Runneth forever. Thou ask'st, where? In the poet's sweet art!

The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine, Bright glistens the eye of each guest, When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine,

The air is perfumed with the morning's fresh breeze, From the bush peer the sunbeams all purple and bright, While they gleam through the clefts of the dark-waving trees,

Lovely he looks, 'tis true, with the light of his torch now extinguished; But remember that death is not aesthetic, my friends!

By no kind Augustus reared, To no Medici endeared, German art arose;

Aphrodite preserves her beauty concealed by her girdle; That which lends her her charms is what she covers her shame.

Before his lion-court, Impatient for the sport, King Francis sat one day;

Ye in the age gone by, Who ruled the world a world how lovely then! And guided still the steps of happy men

Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind, Until on the strand

(SUNG IN A CIRCLE OF FRIENDS.) With one last bumper let us hail The wanderer beloved,

Seerest thou the highest, the greatest! In that the plant can instruct thee; What it unwittingly is, be thou of thine own free will!

Who is the bard of the Iliad among you? For since he likes puddings, Heyne begs he'll accept these that from Gottingen come. "Give them to me! The kings' quarrel I sang!"

Ever honor the whole; individuals only I honor; In individuals I always discover the whole.

The tyrant Dionys to seek, Stern Moerus with his poniard crept; The watchful guard upon him swept;

The Hypochondriacal Pluto. A Romance. Book I. The sullen mayor who reigns in hell, By mortals Pluto hight,

Forever fair, forever calm and bright, Life flies on plumage, zephyr-light, For those who on the Olympian hill rejoice

Woman in everything yields to man; but in that which is highest, Even the manliest man yields to the woman most weak. But that highest, what is it? The gentle radiance of triumph

And wilt thou, faithless one, then, leave me, With all thy magic phantasy, With all the thoughts that joy or grieve me,

Tear forever the garland of Homer, and number the fathers Of the immortal work, that through all time will survive! Yet it has but one mother, and bears that mother's own feature,

Good from the good, to the reason this is not hard of conception; But the genius has power good from the bad to evoke. 'Tis the conceived alone, that thou, imitator, canst practise;

Time flies on restless pinions constant never. Be constant and thou chainest time forever.

Fear with his iron staff may urge the slave onward forever; Rapture, do thou lead me on ever in roseate chains!

Hark where the bells toll, chiming, dull and steady, The clock's slow hand hath reached the appointed time. Well, be it so prepare, my soul is ready,

Men now seek to explore each thing from within and without too! How canst thou make thy escape, Truth, from their eager pursuit? That they may catch thee, with nets and poles extended they seek thee

She comes, she comes the burden of the deeps! Beneath her wails the universal sea! With clanking chains and a new god, she sweeps,

I chanced the other eve, But how I ne'er will tell, The paper to receive.

Wouldst thou know thyself, observe the actions of others. Wouldst thou other men know, look thou within thine own heart.

"I Can love thee well, believe me, As a sister true; Other love, Sir Knight, would grieve me,

Oh, nobly shone the fearful cross upon your mail afar, When Rhodes and Acre hailed your might, O lions of the war! When leading many a pilgrim horde, through wastes of Syrian gloom;

It has ever been so, my friend, and will ever remain so: Weakness has rules for itself, vigor is crowned with success.

"Vivos voco Mortuos plango Fulgura frango." [44] Fast, in its prison-walls of earth, Awaits the mould of baked clay.

[The scenery of Gotthardt is here personified.] To the solemn abyss leads the terrible path, The life and death winding dizzy between;

Ne'er does he taste the fruit of the tree that he raised with such trouble; Nothing but taste e'er enjoys that which by learning is reared.

Humanity's bright image to impair. Scorn laid thee prostrate in the deepest dust; Wit wages ceaseless war on all that's fair,

Within a vale, each infant year, When earliest larks first carol free, To humble shepherds cloth appear

The clouds fast gather, The forest-oaks roar A maiden is sitting

Other masters one always can tell by the words that they utter; That which he wisely omits shows me the master of style.

I see her still - by her fair train surrounded, The fairest of them all, she took her place; Afar I stood, by her bright charms confounded,

Where sails the ship? It leads the Tyrian forth For the rich amber of the liberal north. Be kind, ye seas winds, lend your gentlest wing,

Religion 'twas produced this poem's fire; Perverted also? prithee, don't inquire!

"How far beneath me seems the earthly ball! The pigmy race below I scarce can see; How does my art, the noblest art of all,

HUSBAND. The boy's my very image! See! Even the scars my small-pox left me!

Doubtless an epoch important has with the century risen; But the moment so great finds but a race of small worth.

If thou feelest not the beautiful, still thou with reason canst will it; And as a spirit canst do, that which as man thou canst not.

Man is in truth a poor creature, I know it, and fain would forget it; Therefore (how sorry I am!) came I, alas, unto thee!

AN ANECDOTE OF HELICON. Once the nine all weeping came To the god of song

Stern as my conscience, thou seest the points wherein I'm deficient; Therefore I've always loved thee, as my own conscience I've loved.

Her likeness Madame Ramler bids me find; I try to think in vain, to whom or how Beneath the moon there's nothing of the kind.

Look outside, good friend, I pray! Two whole mortal hours Dogs and I've out here to-day

What thou thinkest, belongs to all; what thou feelest, is thine only. Wouldst thou make him thine own, feel thou the God whom thou thinkest!

PUPIL. I am rejoiced, worthy sirs, to find you in pleno assembled; For I have come down below, seeking the one needful thing.

The principle by which each thing Toward strength and shape first tended, The pulley whereon Zeus the ring

Hast thou the infant seen that yet, unknowing of the love Which warms and cradles, calmly sleeps the mother's heart above Wandering from arm to arm, until the call of passion wakes,

Which among the philosophies will be enduring? I know not, But that philosophy's self ever may last is my hope.

Youth's gay springtime scarcely knowing Went I forth the world to roam And the dance of youth, the glowing,

Plague's contagious murderous breath God's strong might with terror reveals, As through the dreary valley of death

Play on thy mother's bosom, babe, for in that holy isle The error cannot find thee yet, the grieving, nor the guile; Held in thy mother's arms above life's dark and troubled wave,

"Who would himself with shadows entertain, Or gild his life with lights that shine in vain, Or nurse false hopes that do but cheat the true?

The foaming stream from out the rock With thunder roar begins to rush, The oak falls prostrate at the shock,

Mighty art thou, because of the peaceful charms of thy presence; That which the silent does not, never the boastful can do. Vigor in man I expect, the law in its honors maintaining,

Was it always as now? This race I truly can't fathom. Nothing is young but old age; youth, alas! only is old.

Ring and staff, oh to me on a Rhenish flask ye are welcome! Him a true shepherd I call, who thus gives drink to his sheep. Draught thrice blest! It is by the Muse I have won thee, the Muse, too,

I. Threefold is the march of time While the future slow advances,

Thou'rt welcome in my box to peep! Life's puppet-show, the world in little, Thou'lt see depicted to a tittle,

Upon his battlements he stood, And downward gazed in joyous mood, On Samos' Isle, that owned his sway,

RHINE. True, as becometh a Switzer, I watch over Germany's borders; But the light-footed Gaul jumps o'er the suffering stream.

An aged satyr sought Around my Muse to pass, Attempting to pay court,

She sought to breathe one word, but vainly; Too many listeners were nigh; And yet my timid glance read plainly

See in the babe two loveliest flowers united yet in truth, While in the bud they seem the same the virgin and the youth! But loosened is the gentle bond, no longer side by side

MATTHEW. Gossip, you'll like to hear, no doubt! A learned work has just come out

Sure of the spring that warms them into birth, The golden seeds thou trustest to the earth; And dost thou doubt the eternal spring sublime,

'Tis thy Muse's delight to sing God's pity to mortals; But, that they pitiful are, is it a matter for song?

Years has the master been laboring, but always without satisfaction; To an ingenious race 'twould be in vision conferred. What they yesterday learned, to-day they fain would be teaching:

Life she received from fable; the schools deprived her of being, Life creative again she has from reason received.

By love are blest the gods on high, Frail man becomes a deity When love to him is given;

Two genii are there, from thy birth through weary life to guide thee; Ah, happy when, united both, they stand to aid beside thee? With gleesome play to cheer the path, the one comes blithe with beauty,

Two are the pathways by which mankind can to virtue mount upward; If thou should find the one barred, open the other will lie. 'Tis by exertion the happy obtain her, the suffering by patience.

A youth, impelled by a burning thirst for knowledge To roam to Sais, in fair Egypt's land, The priesthood's secret learning to explore,

Man of virtue has need;-into life with boldness he plunges, Entering with fortune more sure into the hazardous strife; But to woman one virtue suffices; it is ever shining

Hail to thee, mountain beloved, with thy glittering purple-dyed summit! Hail to thee also, fair sun, looking so lovingly on! Thee, too, I hail, thou smiling plain, and ye murmuring lindens,

Farewell! the beauteous sun is sinking fast, The moon lifts up her head; Farewell! mute night o'er earth's wide round at last

The name of Wirtemberg they hold To come from Wirth am berg [69], I'm told. A Wirtemberger who ne'er drinks

Three words will I name thee around and about, From the lip to the lip, full of meaning, they flee; But they had not their birth in the being without,

Three errors there are, that forever are found On the lips of the good, on the lips of the best; But empty their meaning and hollow their sound

Beside the brook the boy reclined And wove his flowery wreath, And to the waves the wreath consigned

Whither was it that my spirit wended When from thee my fleeting shadow moved? Is not now each earthly conflict ended?

When the happy appear, I forget the gods in the heavens; But before me they stand, when I the suffering see.

What mean the joyous sounds from yonder vine-clad height? What the exulting Evoe? [63] Why glows the cheek? Whom is't that I, with pinions light,

Tell me all that thou knowest, and I will thankfully hear it! But wouldst thou give me thyself, let me, my friend, be excused!

Thee would I choose as my teacher and friend. Thy living example Teaches me, thy teaching word wakens my heart unto life.

Are the sports of our youth so displeasing? Is love but the folly you say? Benumbed with the winter, and freezing,

"I Have sacrificed all," thou sayest, "that man I might succor; Vain the attempt; my reward was persecution and hate." Shall I tell thee, my friend, how I to humor him manage?

Severe the proof the Grecian youth was doomed to undergo, Before he might what lurks beneath the Eleusinia know Art thou prepared and ripe, the shrine the inner shrine to win,

Prate not to me so much of suns and of nebulous bodies; Think ye Nature but great, in that she gives thee to count? Though your object may be the sublimest that space holds within it,

Far away, where darkness reigneth, All my dreams of bliss are flown; Yet with love my gaze remaineth

Thou, by whom, freed from rules constrained and wrong, On truth and nature once again we're placed, Who, in the cradle e'en a hero strong,

When o'er the chords thy fingers stray, My spirit leaves its mortal clay, A statue there I stand;

Who and what gave to me the wish to woo thee Still, lip to lip, to cling for aye unto thee? Who made thy glances to my soul the link

Ever take it for granted, that man collectively wishes That which is right; but take care never to think so of one!

Speechless to thousands of others, who with deaf hearts would consult him, Talketh the spirit to thee, who art his kinsman and friend.

Do I dream? can I trust to my eye? My sight sure some vapor must cover? Or, there, did my Minna pass by

Yes, my friends! that happier times have been Than the present, none can contravene; That a race once lived of nobler worth;

That is the only true secret, which in the presence of all men Lies, and surrounds thee for ay, but which is witnessed by none.

"Give me only a fragment of earth beyond the earth's limits," So the godlike man said, "and I will move it with ease." Only give me permission to leave myself for one moment,

Not in the crowd of masqueraders gay, Where coxcombs' wit with wondrous splendor flares, And, easier than the Indian's net the prey,

What I had been without thee, I know not yet, to my sorrow See I what, without thee, hundreds and thousands now are.

Let thy speech be to thee what the body is to the loving; Beings it only can part, beings it only can join.

Welcome, gentle Stripling, Nature's darling thou! With thy basket full of blossoms,

THE EPIC HEXAMETER. Giddily onward it bears thee with resistless impetuous billows; Naught but the ocean and air seest thou before or behind.

The dead has risen here, to live through endless ages; This I with firmness trust and know. I was first led to guess it by the sages,

Do what is good, and humanity's godlike plant thou wilt nourish; Plan what is fair, and thou'lt strew seeds of the godlike around.

Many are good and wise; yet all for one only reckon, For 'tis conception, alas, rules them, and not a fond heart. Sad is the sway of conception, from thousandfold varying figures,

Nature in charms is exhaustless, in beauty ever reviving; And, like Nature, fair art is inexhaustible too. Hail, thou honored old man! for both in thy heart thou preservest

Once wisdom dwelt in tomes of ponderous size, While friendship from a pocketbook would talk; But now that knowledge in small compass lies,

That which I learned from the Deity, that which through lifetime hath helped me, Meekly and gratefully now, here I suspend in his shrine.

When hostile elements with rage resound, And fury blindly fans war's lurid flame, When in the strife of party quarrel drowned,

Wouldst thou, my friend, mount up to the highest summit of wisdom, Be not deterred by the fear, prudence thy course may deride That shortsighted one sees but the bank that from thee is flying,

If thou anything hast, let me have it, I'll pay what is proper; If thou anything art, let us our spirits exchange.

Sweet friend, the world, like some fair infant blessed, Radiant with sportive grace, around thee plays; Yet 'tis not as depicted in thy breast

Wheresoever thou wanderest in space, thy Zenith and Nadir Unto the heavens knit thee, unto the axis of earth. Howsoever thou attest, let heaven be moved by thy purpose,