And a gold yellow drop of natrolite
From the dark stone oft comes peeping;
Those are the tears which Sir Basált
For his crushed love ever is weeping.
[THE BOULDER.]
Einst ziert' ich, den Aether durchspähend,
Als Spitze des Urgebirg's Stock,
Ruhm, Hoheit und Stellung verschmähend,
Ward ich zum erratischen Block.
Once high on the mountain-peak rising,
In sunlight I shone like a flame;
But height and position despising,
A wandering boulder became.