The pauper’s fosse, where none can trace him now,
In Montparnasse, but wrapt in deeper peace
Among the unknown and long-forgotten dead.
VIII—IN GERMANY
Goethe
I
THE DISCOVERER
The wreathing mist was quietly breathed away.
I stood upon a little hill at night;
The tang of pinewoods and the warbling joy
Of hidden brooks was round me.