1800.*-----EVER AND EVERYWHERE.
This hourOf sorrow and love to thee I'll sing,And myself before thy feet I'll fling,
On yonder beauteous spot,Embraced by poplar-brooks,
BRETHREN, what bequest to you should comeFrom the lowly poor man, going home,Whom ye younger ones with patience tended,Whose last days ye honour'd and defended?
And that the whole may have life, e'en as enjoy'd by each part.Now, my beloved one, turn thy gaze on the many-hued thousands
In the heart.Ev'ry morning with new force.
So they hasten'd and came, and found that the youngster was leaning'Gainst his carriage under the lime-trees. The horses were pawingWildly the turf; he held them in check and stood there all pensive,Silently gazing in front, and saw not his friends coming near him,Till, as they came, they called him and gave him signals of triumph.Some way off the druggist already began to address him,But they approach'd the youth still nearer, and then the good pastorSeized his hand and spoke and took the word from his comrade"Friend, I wish you joy! Your eye so true and your true heartRightly have chosen! May you and the wife of your young days be happy!She is full worthy of you; so come and turn around the carriage,That we may reach without delay the end of the village,So as to woo her, and shortly escort the dear creature home with us."But the youth stood still, and without any token of pleasureHeard the words of the envoy, though sounding consoling and heav'nly,Deeply sigh'd and said:--"We came full speed in the carriageAnd shall probably go back home ashamed and but slowly;For, since I have been waiting care has fallen upon me,Doubt and suspicion and all that a heart full of love is exposed to.Do you suppose we have only to come, for the maiden to follow,Just because we are rich, and she poor and wandering in exile?Poverty, when undeserved, itself makes proud. The fair maidenSeems to be active and frugal; the world she may claim as her portion.Do you suppose that a woman of such great beauty and mannersCan have grown up without exciting love in man's bosom?Do you suppose that her heart until now has to love been fast closed?Do not drive thither in haste, for perchance to our shame and confusionWe shall have slowly to turn towards home the heads of our horses.Yes, some youth, I fear me, possesses her heart, and alreadyShe has doubtless promised her hand and her solemn troth plighted,And I shall stand all ashamed before her, When making my offer."
"Make not the worst of the mischief," the father peevishly answer'd;"For you see we are waiting ourselves, expecting the issue."
Hermann sped to the stable forthwith, where the spirited stallionsTranquilly stood and with eagerness swallow'd the pure oats before them,And the well-dried hay, which was cut from the best of their meadows.Then in eager haste in their mouths the shining bits placed he,Quickly drew the harness through the well-plated buckles,And then fastend the long broad reins in proper position,Led the horses out in the yard, where already the carriage,Easily moved along by its pole, had been push'd by the servant.Then they restrain'd the impetuous strength of the fast-moving horses,Fastening both with neat-looking ropes to the bar of the carriage.Hermann seized his whip, took his seat, and drove to the gateway.When in the roomy carriage his friends had taken their places,Swiftly he drove away, and left the pavement behind them,Left behind the walls of the town and the clean-looking towers,Thus sped Hermann along, till he reach'd the familiar highway,Not delaying a moment, and galloping uphill and downhill.When however at length the village steeple descried he,And not far away lay the houses surrounded by gardens,He began to think it was time to hold in the horses.
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