Through thy rich strains of sacred harmony.
Yet from those very memories there is born
A soft light, pointing to celestial morn:
Oh! bid it guide us where thy footsteps trode,
To meet at last “the pure in heart” with God!
PROLOGUE TO THE TRAGEDY OF FIESCO,
AS TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF SCHILLER, BY COLONEL D’AGUILAR, AND PERFORMED AT THE THEATRE-ROYAL, DUBLIN, DECEMBER 1832.
Too long apart, a bright but sever’d band,
The mighty minstrels of the Rhine’s fair land
Majestic strains, but not for us, had sung—