Honour is his merit,
’Gainst each in—­ and outward foe

He’s our rock and tower. 
Of his maintenance thinks he though,

More that grows his power.

Next to her good health I drink,

Who has stirr’d my passion;
Of his mistress let each think,

Think in knightly fashion. 
If the beauteous maid but see

Whom ’tis I now call so,
Let her smiling nod to me: 

“Here’s my love’s health also!”

To those friends,—­the two or three,—­

Be our next toast given,
In whose presence revel we,

In the silent even,—­
Who the gloomy mist so cold

Scatter gently, lightly;
To those friends, then, new or old,

Let the toast ring brightly.

Broader now the stream rolls on,

With its waves more swelling,
While in higher, nobler tone,

Comrades, we are dwelling,—­
We who with collected might,

Bravely cling together,
Both in fortune’s sunshine bright,

And in stormy weather.

Just as we are gather’d thus,

Others are collected;
On them, therefore, as on us,

Be Fate’s smile directed! 
From the springhead to the sea,

Many a mill’s revolving,
And the world’s prosperity

Is the task I’m solving.

1802.
-----
Wont and done.

I have loved; for the first time with passion I rave! 
I then was the servant, but now am the slave;

I then was the servant of all: 
By this creature so charming I now am fast bound,
To love and love’s guerdon she turns all around,

       And her my sole mistress I call.

l’ve had faith; for the first time my faith is now strong!  And though matters go strangely, though matters go wrong,

To the ranks of the faithful I’m true: 
Though ofttimes ’twas dark and though ofttimes ’twas drear,
In the pressure of need, and when danger was near,

       Yet the dawning of light I now view.

I have eaten; but ne’er have thus relish’d my food! 
For when glad are the senses, and joyous the blood,

At table all else is effaced
As for youth, it but swallows, then whistles an air;
As for me, to a jovial resort I’d repair,

       Where to eat, and enjoy what I taste.

I have drunk; but have never thus relish’d the bowl! 
For wine makes us lords, and enlivens the soul,

And loosens the trembling slave’s tongue. 
Let’s not seek to spare then the heart-stirring drink,
For though in the barrel the old wine may sink,

       In its place will fast mellow the young.

I have danced, and to dancing am pledged by a vow! 
Though no caper or waltz may be raved about now,

In a dance that’s becoming, whirl round. 
And he who a nosegay of flowers has dress’d,
And cares not for one any more than the rest,