Friedrich Schiller.

Poems online

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Online LibraryFriedrich SchillerPoems → online text (page 20 of 20)
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Who ? I ? What ! in my bosom chaste

Can mortal's image have a seat ?
This heart, by heav'nly glory graced, —

Dares it with earthly love to beat ?
The savior of my country, I, —
The champion of the Lord Most High,
Own for my country's foe a flame —
To the chaste sun my guilt proclaim,
And not be crush'd beneath my shame ?

{The music behind the scene changes into a soft, meU

ing melody.)

Woe ! oh woe ! what strains enthralling !

How bewildering to mine ear !
Each his voice belov'd recalling.

Charming up his image dear 1

Would that battle-tempests bound me !
Would that spears were whizzing round m©

In the hotly-raging strife I

Could my courage find fresh Hfe !

How those tones, those voices blest

Coil around my bosom burning !
All the strength within my breast

Melting into tender yearning,

Into tears of sadness turning !



SThe flutes are again heard — she falls into a sildti
•melancholy.')

Gentle crook ! oh that I never

For the sword had barter'd thee !
Sacred oak ! why didst thou ever

From thy branches speak to me ?
Would that Thou to me in splendor,

Queen of heav'n, hadst ne'er come down I
Take — all claim I must surrender, —

Take, oh take away thy crown !



ATTTSSDTX. {^



Ah, I open saw yon heaven,

Saw iho features of the blest f
Yet to earth my hopes are riven,

lu the skies they ne'er can rest !
Wlierofcjre make me i)ly with ardor

Tliis vocation, terror-fraught ?
Would this heart were reuder'd harder

That by heaven to /eel "was taught I

To proclaim Thy might sublime
Those select, who, free from crime
In Thy lasting mansions stand ;
Send Thou forth Thy spirit-band,
The Immortal, and the Pure,
Feelingless, from tears secure !
Never choose a maiden fair,
Shejjhcrdess' weak spirit ne'er !

Kings' dissensions whorcfore dread }

"Why tl 3 fortune of the fight ?
Quileleosly my lambs once fed I

On the silent mountain-height.
Yet Thou into life didst bear me.

To the halls where monarchs throaS;
lin the toils of guilt to snare me —

Ah, the choice was not mine own !

THH KND.



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Online LibraryFriedrich SchillerPoems → online text (page 20 of 20)