Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 94

If I conceal'd, O king, my name, my race,

It was embarrassment, and not mistrust.

For didst thou know who stands before thee now,

And what accursed head thine arm protects,

Strange horror would possess thy mighty heart;

And, far from wishing me to share thy throne,

Thou, ere the time appointed, from thy realm

Wouldst banish me; wouldst thrust me forth, perchance

Before a glad reunion with my friends

And period to my wand'rings is ordain'd,

To meet that sorrow, which in every clime,

With cold, inhospitable, fearful hand,

Awaits the outcast, exil'd from his home.