FABLE
Imitated from the German of Gellert.
While a nightingale chanted in the midst of a forest, the neighbouring hills and vallies were delighted with her exquisite melody. Every wild bird forgot to sing, listening with fond admiration. Aurora tarried behind the hill, attending to her musical cadences; and Philomel, in honor of the goddess, warbled with unusual sweetness. At that she paused, and the lark took the opportunity of thus addressing her; 'Your music meets with just approbation; the variety, the clearness, and tenderness of the notes are inimitable; nevertheless, in one circumstance I am entitled to a preference. My melody is uninterrupted; and every morning is ushered with my gratulations. Your song on the contrary, is heard but seldom; and, except during a few weeks in the Summer, you have no claim to peculiar attention.' 'You have mentioned,' replied the Nightingale, 'the very cause of my superior excellence. I attend to, and obey, the dictates of Nature. I never sing but by her incitements; nor even yield to importunate, but uninspired inclination.'
Phila. Minerva, II, Apr. 23, 1796, Phila.
[C. F. Gellert, Die Nachtigall and die Lerche.
Free translation of the first stanza; the second, containing the application of the fable, omitted.]
A FABLE
Imitated from the German of Gellert.
Clarine loved her husband with sincere affection—for he was a husband to her mind. Their desires and aversions were the same. It was Clarine's study to be agreeable, and by unwearied attention, to anticipate her husband's wishes. "Such a wife," says my male reader, who has thoughts of matrimony, "such a wife would I desire."—And such a wife mayst thou obtain.—Clarine's husband fell sick—a dangerous illness.—"No hope" said the physician, and shook his awful whig. Bitterly wept Clarine. "O death!" she cried, "O death! might I prefer a petition? Spare my husband; let me be the victim in his stead." Death heard, appeared, and "What," said the grim spectre, "is thy request?" "There," said Clarine sore dismayed, "There he lies; overcome with agony he implores thy speedy relief."
The Nightingale, I-199, June 16, 1796, Boston.
[C. F. Gellert, Die zärtliche Frau. The introductory stanza not translated.]