Licht und Waerme.
Der bess'ere Mensch tritt in die Welt
Mit fröhlichem Vertrauen;
Er glaubt, was ihm die Seele schwellt,
Auch außer sich zu schauen,
Und weiht, von edlem Eifer warm,
Der Wahrheit seinen treuen Arm.
Doch Alles ist so klein, so eng,
Hat er es erst erfahren,
Da sucht er in dem Weltgedräng
Sich selbst nur zu bewahren;
Das Herz in kalter sto zer Ruh
Schließt endlich sich der Liebe zu.
Sie geben, ach, nicht immer Glut,
Der Wahrheit belle Strahlen ;
Wohl denen, die des Wissens Gut
Nicht mit dem Herzen zahlen.
Drum paart, zu eurem schönsten Glück,
Mit Schwärmers Ernst des Weltmanns Blick.
ACRED Goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom
Gods and men and beasts have birth,
Leaf and blade and bud and blossom,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own child Proserpine.
If with mists of evening dew
Thou dost nourish these young flowers, Till they grow, in scent and hue,
Fairest children of the hours,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own child Proserpine.
Quaedam, si credis consultis, mancipat sus.
LTI cordis homo bonaeqve mentis
Res laeta iuvenis fide capessit:
Affectus animi sui benignos
Normam dum putat esse ceterorum,
Nervis omnibus intimisqve votis
Vero dedicat ipse se tuendo.
Sed qvaecumqve homines agunt aventqve
Qvam sint omnia sordida ac pusilla
Expertus sibi consulit, sua arma
Per turbam studet explicare victor,
Nil ultra trepidans; ibi acqvievit,
Et supercilio gravi superbus
Nullas curat habere caritates.
Heu non semper alit calore blando
Pectus lucida flamma Veritatis.
Felicissimus ille, qvisqvis usu
Dum scit vivere non amare nescit.
Ergo, qui volet esse perbeatus,
Ardorem meditantis alta mentis
Scita callidus arte temperabit.
Μῆτερ, πότνα θεῶν, σὺ δ ̓ Αἶα, σῶν γὰρ πάντ ̓ ἐξ ἀθανάτων ἔγεντο κόλπων, ἐπίπνει κάρᾳ Περσεφόνης
ἄμβροτα δῶρα Κούρης σέθεν εὐτέκνου.
σοῦ θεὸς γὰρ ἔφυ βροτός τε καὶ θής, ποίη σὺν πετάλοις, κάλυξ ἅμ ̓ ἄνθει νεόδρεπτα δ ̓ εἰ ταῦτ ̓ ἐθέλεις
ἐσπερίαισιν ἀλδεῖν ῥανίσιν δρόσων, κάλλει τ ̓ αὐξόμεν ̓ εὐπνόῳ τ ̓ ἐν ὀδμῇ ἄνθεμ ̓ ἔκγονα καλλιπάρθεν Ὡρῶν, ἐπίπνει κάρα Περσεφόνης
ἄμβροτα δῶρα Κούρης σέθεν εὐτέκνου.
We hissed along the polished ice, in games
Confederate, imitative of the chase
And woodland pleasures,-the resounding horn,
The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare.
So through the darkness and the cold we flew,
And not a voice was idle: with the din
Smitten, the precipices rang aloud;
The leafless trees and every icy crag
Tinkled like iron; while the distant hills
Into the tumult sent an alien sound
Of melancholy, not unnoticed, while the stars
Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west
The orange sky of evening died away.
Not seldom from the uproar I retired
Into a silent bay, or sportively
Glanced sideway, leaving the tumultuous throng,
To cut across the reflex of a star,
Image, that flying still before me gleamed
Upon the glassy plain: and oftentimes
When we had given our bodies to the wind,
And all the shadowy banks on either side
Came sweeping through the darkness, spinning still
The rapid line of motion, then at once
Have I reclining back upon my heels
Stopped short; yet still the solitary cliffs
Wheeled by me-even as if the earth had rolled
With visible motion her diurnal round:
Behind me did they stretch in solemn train
Feebler and feebler, and I stood and watched
Till all was tranquil as a summer sea.
Flumina radunt summa leves.
AMQVE pedes ferro subnexi et levia lapsu
Aeqvora oberrantes stridorem agitamus acutum
Ludo omnes socio, et venandi gaudia cursu
Laeti exercemus studiumqve imitamur agreste.
Hinc cornu canere, hinc ululatus mittere magnos
Agmina rauca canum leporiqve instare fugato.
Per tenebras adeo per frigora densa volamus
Vocibus assiduis, pulsae qvo murmure cautes
Certatim reboant: viduataqve frondibus arbos,
Ipsa etiam glacie et nivibus concreta vetustis
Infremuit ferrum rupes imitata sonando.
Longinqvi referunt voces et non sua montes
Murmura, maesta qvidem, per turbam audita, sed aures
Clara sono feriunt: nec setius aethere puro
Astra eoa micant: etiam sua purpura sero
Vespertinae etiam caelo evanescere flammae.
Interea medio decedens saepe tumultu
Ipse sinus tacitos qvaerebam, aut agmine abibam
Obliqvus ludens, sese qva stella secandam
Obtulerat glacie effulgens; illa usqve volando
Campos per vitreos falsa me luce trahebat.
Tum memini, ventis cum corpora prona daremus,
Dum riparum umbrae per noctem utrimqve feruntur,
Dumqve fugam mediam et rapidum pede volvor in orbem,
Praecipites subito gressus me saepe morari,
Retro inclinatum, pressaqve insistere planta:
Nec minus assiduo praeter me sola meatu
Saxa ferebantur, qvasi motus terra videndos
Praeberet manifesta oculis orbemqve diurnum :
Usqve ibant, usqve extento tardam ordine pompam
Ducebant magis atqve magis tenuata tuenti;
Donec ut aestivum reqvierunt omnia marmor.
Done into English by Will Shakespeare.
ENTLES, perchance you wonder at this show;
But wonder on, till truth makes all things plain. This man is Pyramus, if you would know; This bounteous lady Thisby is, certain. This man, with lime and roughcast, doth present Wall,—that vile wall that did these lovers sunder, And through wall's chink, poor souls, they are content To whisper; at the which let no one wonder. This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of thorn,
Presenteth moonshine; for, if you will know,
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
To meet at Ninus' tomb, there, there to woo.
This grisly beast, which by name lion hight,
The trusty Thisby, coming first by night,
Did scare away, or rather did affright.
And as she fled, her mantle did she fall;
Which lion vile with bloody mouth did stain:
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth and tall,
And finds his trusty Thisby's mantle slain.
Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade,
He bravely broached his boiling bloody breast;
And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade,
His dagger drew, and died.
Let lion, moonshine, wall, and lovers twain,
At large discourse, while here they do remain.
WEET Moon, I thank thee for thy sunny beams;
I thank thee, Moon, for shining now so bright: For by thy gracious golden glittering streams I trust to taste of truest Thisby's sight.
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