Is it a wonder?Flutes sing and trumpets bray,
To the gods of old we'll hasten, blest."
I file, and maybe overfile
1821.*-----THE FOX AND CRANE.
But who stands there apart?In the thicket, lost is his path;Behind him the bushesAre closing together,The grass springs up again,The desert engulphs him.
They arrive at their home, and their pitchers they placeBy the side of their parents, with fear on their face,
Gives your hearts delight no more,--Then return in pilgrim guise,
THEN when into the room the well-built son made his entry,Straightway with piercing glances the minister eyed him intently,And with carefulness watch'd his looks and the whole of his bearing,With an inquiring eye which easily faces decyphers;Then he smiled, and with cordial words address'd him as follows"How you are changed in appearance, my friend! I never have seen youHalf so lively before; your looks are thoroughly cheerful.You have return'd quite joyous and merry. You've doubtless dividedAll of the presents amongst the poor, their blessings receiving."
Stealing softly through the grove!
Little elves of wondrous might!Whether good or evil they,
Oh youth, thou must thyself restrain!Well may true liberty be found,
Stay!--I'll join thee in the road.'
THE reluctance which must naturally be felt by any one inventuring to give to the world a book such as the present, wherethe beauties of the great original must inevitably be diminished,if not destroyed, in the process of passing through thetranslator's hands, cannot but be felt in all its force when thattranslator has not penetrated beyond the outer courts of thepoetic fane, and can have no hope of advancing further, or ofreaching its sanctuary. But it is to me a subject of peculiarsatisfaction that your kind permission to have your nameinscribed upon this page serves to attain a twofold end--onedirect and personal, and relating to the present day; the otherreflected and historical, and belonging to times long gone by. Ofthe first little need now be said, for the privilege is whollymine, in making this dedication: as to the second, one word ofexplanation will suffice for those who have made the greatestpoet of Germany, almost of the world, their study, and to whomthe story of his life is not unknown. All who have followed thecareer of GOETHE are familiar with the name and character ofDALBERG, and also with the deep and lasting friendship thatexisted between them, from which SCHILLER too was not absent;recalling to the mind the days of old, when a Virgil and a Horaceand a Maecenas sat side by side.