SPRING EVENING.
FROM THE GERMAN.
Bright with the golden shine of heaven, plays
On tender blades the dew;
And the spring-landscape’s trembling likeness sways
Clear in the streamlet’s blue.
Fair is the rocky fount, the blossomed hedge,
Groves stained with golden light;
Fair is the star of eve, that on the edge
Of purple clouds shines bright.
Fair is the meadow’s green—the valley’s copse—
The hillock’s dress of flowers—
The alder-brook—the reed-encircled pond,
O’er-snowed with blossom-showers.
This manifold world of Love is held in one
By Love’s eternal band;
The glow-worm and the fire-sea of the sun
Sprang from one Father’s hand!
Thou beckonest, Almighty! from the tree
The blossom’s leaf doth fall;
Thou beckonest, and in immensity
Is quenched a solar ball!
Anonymous Translation. Friedrich von Matthisson, 1761–1831.