Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1223

Thither to find the way I know full well!—

Yet can I not enough declare,

What wealth unown'd lies waiting everywhere:

The countryman, who ploughs the land,

Gold-crocks upturneth with the mould;

Nitre he seeks in lime-walls old,

And findeth, in his meagre hand,

Scared, yet rejoiced, rouleaus of gold.

How many a vault upblown must be,

Into what clefts, what shafts, must he

Who doth of hidden treasure know,

Descend, to reach the world below!

In cellars vast, impervious made,

Goblets of gold he sees displayed,

Dishes and plates, row after row;

There beakers, rich with rubies, stand;

And would he use them, close at hand

Well stored the ancient moisture lies;

Yet—would ye him who knoweth, trust?—

The staves long since have turned to dust,

A tartar cask their place supplies!

Not gold alone and jewels rare,

Essence of noblest wines are there,

In night and horror veiled. The wise,

Unwearied here pursues his quest.

To search by day, that were a jest;

'Tis darkness that doth harbor mysteries.