Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1549

Not from the strife itself to set thee free,

But more to nerve—doth Victory

Wave her rich garland from the Ideal clime.

Whate'er thy wish, the Earth has no repose—

Life still must drag thee onward as it flows,

Whirling thee down the dancing surge of Time.

But when the courage sinks beneath the dull

Sense of its narrow limits—on the soul,

Bright from the hill-tops of the Beautiful,

Bursts the attainèd goal!