I ofttimes think I hear the singing
Of German nightingales once cherish’d;
Sweetly their notes are round me clinging—
A dream! the vision soon has perish’d.
Where are the roses whose delicious
Perfume once bless’d me? Every blossom
Long since has died! With taint pernicious
Their ghostly scent still haunts my bosom.
10. SONGS OF CREATION.
1.
God at first the sun created,
Then each nightly constellation;
From the sweat of his own forehead
Oxen were his next creation.
Wild beasts he created later,
Lions with their paws so furious;
In the image of the lion
Made he kittens small and curious.
Afterwards, the wilds to people,
Man to spring to being bade he,
And in man’s attractive image
Interesting monkeys made he.
Satan saw it, full of laughter:
“Copies from himself he’s taking!
“In the image of his oxen
“Calves he finally is making.”