Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 515

In every garb I needs must feel oppress'd,

My heart to earth's low cares a prey.

Too old the trifler's part to play,

Too young to live by no desire possess'd.

What can the world to me afford?

Renounce! renounce! is still the word;

This is the everlasting song

In every ear that ceaseless rings,

And which, alas, our whole life long,

Hoarsely each passing moment sings.

But to new horror I awake each morn,

And I could weep hot tears, to see the sun

Dawn on another day, whose round forlorn

Accomplishes no wish of mine—not one.

Which still, with froward captiousness, impains

E'en the presentiment of every joy,

While low realities and paltry cares

The spirit's fond imaginings destroy.

Then must I too, when falls the veil of night,

Stretch'd on my pallet languish in despair.

Appalling dreams my soul affright;

No rest vouchsafed me even there.

The god, who throned within my breast resides,

Deep in my soul can stir the springs;

With sovereign sway my energies he guides,

He cannot move external things;

And so existence is to me a weight,

Death fondly I desire, and life I hate.