  (“Ach, aus dieses Thales GrÜnden.”) From the shadows of the valley With the chilly mist opprest, Might I only find the outlet I should count myself as blest. There uprise the sunny mountains Green and young and fair to see, Had I wings to lift me upward, To the mountains I would flee. Melodies are sweetly chiming, I can catch the heavenly notes, And a balmy flower fragrance On the light breeze downward floats. Golden fruits are shining, glowing, Through the leafage, darkly green, And the flowers that there are blowing Winter’s snows have never seen. Ah, how blissful must the life be In that sunshine without night; Is the air that crowns that height! Yet the stormy river stays me That between us roars of death; And its ghastly waves are lifted Till my spirit shuddereth. There a bark all lonely tosses Without steersman, on the tide; Leap into it, bold, untrembling, Sure some fate its sails will guide! Thou must trust, and thou must venture, For the gods will lend no hand; Nothing but a wonder lifts thee To thy golden Wonderland. [Decorative image unavailable.] |
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