Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 423

He whom we mourned as dead,

Living and glorious,

From the dark grave hath fled,

O'er death victorious;

Almost creative bliss

Waits on His growing powers;

Ah! Him on earth we miss;

Sorrow and grief are ours.

Yearning He left His own,

Mid sore annoy;

Ah! we must needs bemoan,

Master, thy joy!