“And when thou and thy friends at fierce noon-day

Are parched with heat, straight cast it in the air! 
Then Zephyr’s cooling breath will round you play,

Distilling balm and flowers’ sweet incense there;
The tones of earthly woe will die away,

The grave become a bed of clouds so fair,
To sing to rest life’s billows will be seen,
The day be lovely, and the night serene.”—­

Come, then, my friends! and whensoe’er ye find

Upon your way increase life’s heavy load;
If by fresh-waken’d blessings flowers are twin’d

Around your path, and golden fruits bestow’d,
We’ll seek the coming day with joyous mind!

Thus blest, we’ll live, thus wander on our road
And when our grandsons sorrow o’er our tomb,
Our love, to glad their bosoms, still shall bloom.

Songs.
-----
Late resounds the early strain;
Weal and woe in song remain.
-----
Sound, sweet song.

Sound, sweet song, from some far land,
Sighing softly close at hand,

Now of joy, and now of woe!

Stars are wont to glimmer so.

Sooner thus will good unfold;
Children young and children old
Gladly hear thy numbers flow.

1820.*
-----

* In the cases in which the date is marked thus (*), it signifies the original date of publication—­the year of composition not being known.  In other cases, the date given is that of the actual composition.  All the poems are arranged in the order of the recognised German editions. ----- To the kind reader.

No one talks more than a Poet;
Fain he’d have the people know it.

Praise or blame he ever loves;
None in prose confess an error,
Yet we do so, void of terror,

In the Muses’ silent groves.

What I err’d in, what corrected,
What I suffer’d, what effected,

To this wreath as flow’rs belong;
For the aged, and the youthful,
And the vicious, and the truthful,

All are fair when viewed in song.

1800.*
-----
The new Amadis.

In my boyhood’s days so drear

I was kept confined;
There I sat for many a year,

All alone I pined,
As within the womb.

Yet thou drov’st away my gloom,

Golden phantasy! 
I became a hero true,

Like the Prince Pipi,
And the world roam’d through,

Many a crystal palace built,

Crush’d them with like art,
And the Dragon’s life-blood spilt

With my glitt’ring dart. 
Yes!  I was a man!

Next I formed the knightly plan

Princess Fish to free;
She was much too complaisant,

Kindly welcomed me,—­
And I was gallant.

Heav’nly bread her kisses proved,

Glowing as the wine;
Almost unto death I loved.