But though so much prevails that's sad and wrong.
One may not quite disdain a merry heart.
Go forth, my song, then, as thou didst before,
A cheerful memory of life's fresh spring;
Cheer up those hearts, which grief made sad and sore,
And to friends far and near my greeting bring.
Whenever men to nobler aims aspire,
Then higher too will ring the poet's lyre.
Rippoldsau, September, 1858.