Then run again a step in haste,And to my former post go round.
Sound 'mid war's thunder;If I grow raving mad,
From the noblest passion that we prove?
Up the trellis'd vine on high!May ye swell, twin-berries tender,Juicier far,--and with more splendour
And still fairer is the bride,When in me she will confide,When she speaks and lets me knowAll her tale of joy and woe.All her lifetime's historyNow is fully known to me.Who in child or woman e'erSoul and body found so fair?
Pretty girls I hope to see,
I feel no small reluctance in venturing to give to the public awork of the character of that indicated by the title-page to thepresent volume; for, difficult as it must always be to rendersatisfactorily into one's own tongue the writings of the bards ofother lands, the responsibility assumed by the translator isimmeasurably increased when he attempts to transfer the thoughtsof those great men, who have lived for all the world and for allages, from the language in which they were originally clothed, toone to which they may as yet have been strangers. Preeminentlyis this the case with Goethe, the most masterly of all the masterminds of modern times, whose name is already inscribed on thetablets of immortality, and whose fame already extends over theearth, although as yet only in its infancy. Scarcely have twodecades passed away since he ceased to dwell among men, yet henow stands before us, not as a mere individual, like those whomthe world is wont to call great, but as a type, as an emblem--therecognised emblem and representative of the human mind in itspresent stage of culture and advancement.
Silence, loved one, my heart!Cracking, let it not break!Breaking, break not with thee!
And there was no scarcity.
The scorching sunbeams to ward off from me.From thee alone Earth's fairest gifts I gain'd,Through thee alone, true bliss can be obtain'd.
1815.*-----THE SAME, EXPANDED.
Starting from his couch with eager haste:"Here are Ceres', Bacchus' gifts of joy;
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