Sink, sullen rear-guard of the storm, Behind the Laugen's snowy crest! Already Rotheck's lordly form Stands spotless in the radiant west; Blow, winter wind, and clarify Our crystal air, our sapphire sky! Shine, Sun God! Give us life once more! Too long have clouds concealed thy face; Give to Meran the look she wore, When to her beauty, light, and grace I gladly yielded heart and soul, And made my home in fair Tyrol! Stupendous source of life and light! As in thy warmth my pulses thrill, Before thy glory and thy might I feel myself a Pagan still, And in my spirit's inmost shrine I half adore thee as divine.
|
|