To gain what's fit ye're able,If ye in faith can but excel;
Terrible enchanted forms,Dragon-women, men-wolf swarms!Wilder yet the sounds are growing!See, the archfiend comes, all-glowing!From the groundHellish vapours rise around!
Love not the subtle and old; Mother, observe what I say!Still was new the Antique, when yonder blest ones were living;
My maiden went to seek,And fell upon her neck, when: "Ah!"
Mingled the crowds from ev'ry region brought,And on the stage, in festal pomp array'dThe HOMAGE OF THE ARTS * we saw displayed.
Now as a greybeard I sit here in state,
Up, up, lies my course.While downward the cloudsAre hovering, the cloudsAre bending to meet yearning love.For me,Within thine armsUpwards!Embraced and embracing!Upwards into thy bosom,Oh Father all-loving!
The purest balsam in each earthly wound?Thou knows't me well; thy panting heart I led
O'er the landStreams the band;Hot desire,Drunken-fireIn their gazeWildly plays,--Makes their hairBristle there.And the troop,With fell swoop,Women, men,Coming then,Ply their blowsAnd expose,Void of shame,All the frame.Iron shot,Fierce and hot,Strike with fearOn the ear;All they slayOn their way.O'er the landPours the band;All take flightAt their sight.
Thou follow'dst me with tearful eye:And yet, what rapture to be loved!
Hail to the beings,Unknown and glorious,Whom we forebode!From his exampleLearn we to know them!