Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1369

Mother, say then, do I find thee,

To receive my thanks once more,

In my youth who didst so kindly,

With thy spouse, my life restore?

Baucis, to my lips half-dying,

Art thou, who refreshment gave?

[The husband steps forth.]

Thou Philemon, strength who plying,

Snatched my treasure from the wave?

By your flames, so promptly kindled,

By your bell's clear silver sound—

That adventure, horror-mingled,

Hath a happy issue found.

Forward let me step, and gazing

Forth upon the boundless main,

Kneel, and thankful prayers upraising,

Ease of my full heart the strain!

[He walks forward upon the downs.]

PHILEMON (to BAUCIS)

Haste to spread the table, under

The green leafage of our trees.

Let him run, struck dumb with wonder,

Scarce he'll credit what he sees.

[He follows the wanderer. Standing beside him.]

Where the billows did maltreat you,

Wave on wave in fury rolled,

There a garden now doth greet you,

Fair as Paradise of old.

Grown more aged, as when stronger,

I could render aid no more;

And, as waned my strength, no longer

Rolled the sea upon the shore;

Prudent lords, bold serfs directing,

It with trench and dyke restrained;

Ocean's rights no more respecting,

Lords they were, where he had reigned.

See, green meadows far extending;—

Garden, village, woodland, plain.

But return we, homeward wending,

For the sun begins to wane.

In the distance sails are gliding,

Nightly they to port repair;

Bird-like, in their nests confiding,

For a haven waits them there.

Far away mine eye discerneth

First the blue fringe of the main;

Right and left, where'er it turneth,

Spreads the thickly-peopled plain.