Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1599

See the silvery bubbles spring!

Good! the mass is melting now!

Let the salts we duly bring

Purge the flood, and speed the flow.

From the dross and the scum,

Pure, the fusion must come;

For perfect and pure we the metal must keep,

That its voice may be perfect, and pure, and deep.

That voice, with merry music rife,

The cherished child shall welcome in,

What time the rosy dreams of life

In the first slumber's arms begin;

As yet in Time's dark womb unwarning,

Repose the days, or foul or fair,

And watchful o'er that golden morning,

The Mother-Love's untiring care!

And swift the years like arrows fly—

No more with girls content to play,

Fast in its prison-walls of earth,

Awaits the mold of bakèd clay.

Up, comrades, up, and aid the birth—

The BELL that shall be born to-day!

Bounds the proud Boy upon his way,

Storms through loud life's tumultuous pleasures,

With pilgrim staff the wide world measures;

And, wearied with the wish to roam,

Again seeks, stranger-like, the Father-Home.

And, lo, as some sweet vision breaks

Out from its native morning skies,

With rosy shame on downcast cheeks,

The Virgin stands before his eyes.

A nameless longing seizes him!

From all his wild companions flown;

Tears, strange till then, his eyes bedim;

He wanders all alone.

Blushing, he glides where'er she move;

Her greeting can transport him;

To every mead to deck his love,

The happy wild flowers court him!

Sweet Hope—and tender Longing—ye

The growth of Life's first Age of Gold,

When the heart, swelling, seems to see

The gates of heaven unfold!

O Love, the beautiful and brief! O prime,

Glory, and verdure, of life's summertime!