Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1221

The grand discovery they misprize,

As, in amaze, they stand around;

One prates of gnomes and sorceries,

Another of the sable hound.

What matters it, though witlings rail,

Though one his suit 'gainst witchcraft press,

If his sole tingle none the less,

If his sure footing also fail?

Ye of all swaying Nature feel

The secret working, never-ending,

And, from her lowest depths up-tending,

E'en now her living trace doth steal.

If sudden cramps your limbs surprise,

If all uncanny seem the spot—

There dig and delve, but dally not!

There lies the fiddler, there the treasure lies!

Murmur

Like lead it lies my foot about—

Cramp'd is my arm—'tis only gout—

Twitchings I have in my great toe—

Down all my back strange pains I know—

Such indications make it clear

That sumless treasuries are here.