Verily I was before thou wast; the
mother sent me with my sisters to inhabit thy world, to sanctify it with
love that it might be an ever present memorial, to plant it with flowers
unfading. As yet they have not ripened, these thoughts divine; as yet is
there small trace of our coming apocalypse. One day thy clock will point
to the end of Time, and then thou shalt be as one of us, and shalt, full
of ardent longing, be extinguished and die. I feel in me the close of thy
activity, I taste heavenly freedom, and happy restoration. With wild pangs
I recognize thy distance from our home, thy feud with the ancient lordly
Heaven. Thy rage and thy raving are in vain. Inconsumable stands the
cross, victory-flag of our race.
Over I pilgrim
Where every pain
Zest only of pleasure
Shall one day remain.
Yet a few moments
Then free am I,
And intoxicated
In Love's lap lie.
Life everlasting
Lifts, wave-like, at me:
I gaze from its summit
Down after thee.
Oh Sun, thou must vanish
Yon hillock beneath;
A shadow will bring thee
Thy cooling wreath.
Oh draw at my heart, love,
Draw till I'm gone;
That, fallen asleep, I
Still may love on!
I feel the flow of
Death's youth-giving flood;
To balsam and aether, it
Changes my blood!
I live all the daytime
In faith and in might:
In holy rapture
I die every night.
V.
In ancient times an iron Fate lorded it, with dumb force, over the
widespread families of men. A gloomy oppression swathed their anxious
souls: the Earth was boundless, the abode of the gods and their home.
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