Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 411

Oh God! How long is art,

Our life how short! With earnest zeal

Still as I ply the critic's task, I feel

A strange oppression both of head and heart.

The very means—how hardly are they won,

By which we to the fountains rise!

And, haply, ere one half the course is run,

Check'd in his progress, the poor devil dies.