Exchangeth he the seasons as they roll;
Thus nobly doth he vanquish, with renown,
The twilight and the night that weigh us down.

Brighter now glow’d his cheek, and still more bright.

With that unchanging, ever-youthful glow,—­
That courage which overcomes, in hard-fought fight,

Sooner or later, ev’ry earthly foe—­
That faith which, soaring to the realms of light,

Now boldly Presseth on, now bendeth low,
So that the good may work, wax, thrive amain,
So that the day the noble may attain.

Yet, though so skill’d, of such transcendent worth,

This boarded scaffold doth he not despise;
The fate that on its axis turns the earth

From day to night, here shows he to our eyes,
Raising, through many a work of glorious birth,

Art and the artist’s fame up tow’rd the skies. 
He fills with blossoms of the noblest strife,
With life itself, this effigy of life.

His giant-step, as ye full surely knew,

Measured the circle of the will and deed,
Each country’s changing thoughts and morals too,

The darksome book with clearness could he read;
Yet how he, breathless ’midst his friends so true,

Despaired in sorrow, scarce from pain was freed,—­
All this have we, in sadly happy years,
For he was ours, bewailed with feeling tears.

When from the agonizing weight of grief

He raised his eyes upon the world again,
We show’d him how his thoughts might find relief

From the uncertain present’s heavy chain,
Gave his fresh-kindled mind a respite brief,

With kindly skill beguiling ev’ry pain,
And e’en at eve, when setting was his sun,
From his wan cheeks a gentle smile we won.

Full early had he read the stern decree,

Sorrow and death to him, alas, were known;
Ofttimes recovering, now departed he,—­

Dread tidings, that our hearts had fear’d to own! 
Yet his transfigured being now can see

Itself, e’en here on earth, transfigured grown. 
What his own age reproved, and deem’d a crime,
Hath been ennobled now by death and time.

And many a soul that with him strove in fight,

And his great merit grudged to recognise,
Now feels the impress of his wondrous might,

And in his magic fetters gladly lies;
E’en to the highest bath he winged his flight,

In close communion link’d with all we prize. 
Extol him then!  What mortals while they live
But half receive, posterity shall give.

Thus is he left us, who so long ago,—­

Ten years, alas, already!—­turn’d from earth; We all, to our great joy, his precepts know,

Oh may the world confess their priceless worth!  In swelling tide tow’rd every region flow

The thoughts that were his own peculiar birth; He gleams like some departing meteor bright, Combining, with his own, eternal light. -----