Then forthwith replied the son, with eagerness speaking:--"Do so, neighbour, and go, make your inquiries. However,I should greatly prefer that our friend, the pastor, went with you;Two such excellent men are witnesses none can find fault with.O, my father! the maiden no vagabond is, I assure you,No mere adventurer, wand'ring about all over the country,And deceiving the inexperienced youths with her cunning;No! the harsh destiny link'd with this war, so destructive of all things,Which is destroying the world, and already has wholly uprootedMany a time-honour'd fabric, has driven the poor thing to exile.Are not brave men of noble birth now wand'ring in mis'ry?Princes are fleeing disguised, and monarchs in banishment living.Ah, and she also herself, the best of her sisters, is drivenOut of her native land; but her own misfortunes forgetting,Others she seeks to console, and, though helpless, is also most helpful.Great are the woes and distress which over the earth's face are brooding,But may happiness not be evoked from out of this sorrow?May not I, in the arms of my bride, the wife I have chosen,Even rejoice at the war, as you at the great conflagration?"
LET the foeman sorrow o'er his dead,
Fall foaming through the wheel,Though people often tell
As he proceeded on his wayHe thought, "I was too weak to-day;To bow I'll ne'er again be seen;For goats will swallow what is green."Across the fields he now must speed,Not over stumps and stones, indeed,But over meads and cornfields sweet,Trampling down all with clumsy feet.A farmer met him by-and-by,And didn't ask him: how? or why?But with his fist saluted him.
ONE OF THE PEOPLE.
Tears that eternal love sheddeth!How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear,When only half-dried on the eye is the tear!
On the world we suddenly are thrown;Hundred thousand billows round us sport;