Though your object may be the sublimest that space holds within it,
Yet, my good friends, the sublime dwells not in the regions of space.
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Youth’s gay springtime scarcely knowing
And the dance of youth, the glowing,Left I in my father’s home,Of my birthright, glad-believing,Of my world-gear took I none,Careless as an infant, cleavingTo my pilgrim staff alone.For I placed my mighty hope inDim and holy words of faith,‘Wander forth–the way is open,Ever on the upward path–Till thou gain the golden portal,Till its gates unclose…
Thou in truth shouldst be one, yet not with the whole shouldst thou be so.
Voice of the whole is thy reason, but thou thine own heart must be ever;If in thy heart reason dwells evermore, happy art thou.
Can I, my friend, with thee condole?–
When late repentance racks the soulEnsnared into the toils of hymen?Can I take part in such distress?–Poor martyr,–most devoutly, ‘Yes!’Thou weep’st because thy spouse has flownTo arms preferred before thine own;–A faithless wife,–I grant the curse,–And yet, my friend, it might be worse!Just hear another’s tale of sorrow,And, in comparing, comfort borrow!What! dost thou think…
Monument of our own age’s shame,
Rousseau’s grave, how dear thou art to meCalm repose be to thy ashes blest!In thy life thou vainly sought’st for rest,But at length ’twas here obtained by thee!When will ancient wounds be covered o’er?Wise men died in heathen days of yore;Now ’tis lighter–yet they die again.Socrates was killed by sophists vile,Rousseau meets his death through…
O Freunde, nicht diese Tone!
Und freudenvollere!Freude schoner Gotterfunken,Tochter aus Elysium,Wir betreten feuertrunken,Himmliche dein Heiligtum!Deine Zauber binden wieder,Was die Mode Streng geteilt;Alle Menschen werden Bruder,Wo dein sanfter Flugel weiltWem der gross e Wurf gelungen,Eines Freundes Freund zu sein,Wer ein holdes Weib errungen,Mische seinen Jubel ein!Ja, wer auch nur eine SeeleSein nennt auf dem Erdenrund!Und wer’s nie gekonnt, der stehleWeinend sich…