SONG.
FROM THE GERMAN.
See the rocky spring,
Clear as joy,
Like a sweet star gleaming!
O’er the clouds, he
In his youth was cradled
By good spirits,
'Neath the bushes in the cliffs.
Fresh with youth
From the cloud he dances
Down upon the rocky pavement;
Thence, exulting,
Leaps to heaven.
For a while he dallies
Round the summit,
Through its little channels chasing
Motley pebbles round and round;
Quick, then, like determined leader,
Hurries all his brother streamlets
Off with him.
There, all round him in the vale,
Flowers spring up beneath his footstep,
And the meadow
Wakes to feel his breath.
But him holds no shady vale—
No cool blossoms,
Which around his knees are clinging,
And with loving eyes entreating
Passing notice; on he speeds,
Winding snake-like.
Social brooklets
Add their waters. Now he rolls
O’er the plain in silvery splendor,
And the plain his splendor borrows;
And the rivulets from the plain,
And the brooklets from the hill-sides,
All are shouting to him, “Brother,
Brother, take thy brothers too—
Take us to thy ancient Father,
To the everlasting Ocean,
Who, e’en now, with outstretched arms,
Waits for us—
Arms outstretched, alas! in vain,
To embrace his longing ones;
For the greedy sand devours us;
Or the burning sun above us
Sucks our life-blood; or some hillock
Hems us into ponds. Ah! brother,
Take thy brothers from the plain—
Take thy brothers from the hill-sides
With thee, to our Sire with thee!”
“Come ye all, then!”
Now, more proudly,
On he swells; a countless race, they
Bear their glorious prince aloft!
On he rolls triumphantly
Giving names to countries; cities
Spring to being 'neath his feet.
Onward with incessant roaring,
See! he passes proudly by
Flaming turrets, marble mansions—
Creatures of his fullness, all!
Cedar houses bears this Atlas
On his giant shoulders; rustling,
Flapping in the playful breezes,
Thousand flags about his head are
Telling of his majesty.
And so bears he all his brothers,
And his treasures, and his children,
To their Sire, all joyous roaring—
Pressing to his mighty heart.
Translation of J. S. Dwight. Johann Wolfgang v. Goethe, 1749–1832.