[149]
England im Jahr 1819.
Ein König, alt, toll, blind, dem Tod verfallen; –
Prinzen, die Hefen ihres trägen Stamms, '
Verhöhnt als kothiger Abhub kothigen Schlamms; –
Negierer, fühllos, taub den Klagen allen,
5 Blutegeln gleich ihr Mordwerk (Gott verdamm’s!)
Verrichtend, bis sie blutsatt niederfallen; –
Ein...
England und Deutschland.
Stolzes Brittannien, du! du raubst von Osten und Westen
Köstlich duftendes Reis, das dich in Flammen verzehrt,
Glänzender Phönix! Wir, die deutsche fleißige Biene,
Sammlen auf jeglicher Flur Honig, und wissen nicht, wem ?
[125] RÜCKKEHR ZWEIER THÜRINGER AUS ENGLAND
Der Eine
Goodbye. I go,
Anybody to irgendwo.
Lebe wohl, du Land, das ich verehre!
On the pier winks no girl,...
Hail to the land whereon we tread,
Our fondest boast!
The sepulchre of mighty dead,
The truest hearts that ever bled,
Who sleep on glory’s brightest bed,
A fearless host:
No slave is here;—our unchained feet
Walk freely, as the waves that beat
Our coast.
Our fathers crossed the ocean’s wave
To...
Clime of the brave! the high heart’s home,
Laved by the wild and stormy sea!
Thy children, in this far-off land,
Devote to-day their hearts to thee;
Our thoughts, despite of space and time,
To-day are in our native clime,
Where passed our sinless years, and where
Our infant heads first bowed in prayer.
Stern land! we love...
New england’s dead! New England’s dead!
On every hill they lie;
On every field of strife, made red
By bloody victory.
Each valley, where the battle poured
Its red and awful tide,
Beheld the brave New England sword
With slaughter deeply dyed.
Their bones are on the northern hill,
And on the southern...
Keats
o gold Hyperion, love-lorn Porphyro,
Ill-fated! from thine orbëd fire struck back
Just as the parting clouds began to glow,
And stars, like sparks, to bicker in thy track!
Alas! throw down, throw down, ye mighty dead,
The leaves of oak and asphodel
That ye were weaving for that honored head,—
In vain, in vain, your...
Lear and Cordelia! ’t was an ancient tale
Before thy Shakespeare gave it deathless fame:
The times have changed, the moral is the same.
So like an outcast, dowerless, and pale,
Thy daughter went; and in a foreign gale
Spread her young banner, till its sway became
A wonder to the nations. Days of shame
Are close upon thee: prophets raise...
The grass of fifty Aprils hath waved green
Above the spent heart, the Olympian head,
The hands crost idly, the shut eyes unseen,
Unseeing, the locked lips whose song hath fled;
Yet mystic-lived, like some rich, tropic flower,
His fame puts forth fresh blossoms hour by hour;
Wide spread the laden branches dropping dew
On the low,...
Thou art as a lone watcher on a rock,
With Saxon hair back floating in the wind,
Gazing where stranger ships, to doom consigned,
Upon the sullen ledges grind and knock.
Fair were the barks round which the breakers flock,
Rich freights had they of treasure for mankind,
And gallant were the hearts that left behind
The sea’s broad buffet for...
