The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 03. Коллектив авторов
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СКАЧАТЬ street, and quiet mart;—

        Silence is in the city's heart;

        And the social taper lighteth

        Each dear face that HOME uniteth;

        While the gate the town before

        Heavily swings with sullen roar!

        Though darkness is spreading

        O'er earth—the Upright

        And the Honest, undreading,

        Look safe on the night

        Which the evil man watches in awe,

        For the eye of the Night is the Law!

        Bliss-dowered! O daughter of the skies,

        Hail, holy ORDER, whose employ

        Blends like to like in light and joy—

        Builder of cities, who of old

        Called the wild man from waste and wold,

        And, in his but thy presence stealing,

        Roused each familiar household feeling,

        And, best of all, the happy ties,

        The centre of the social band—

        The Instinct of the Fatherland!

        United thus—each helping each,

        Brisk work the countless hands forever;

        For naught its power to Strength can teach,

        Like Emulation and Endeavor!

        Thus linked the master with the man,

        Each in his rights can each revere,

        And while they march in freedom's van,

        Scorn the lewd rout that dogs the rear!

        To freemen labor is renown!

        Who works—gives blessings and commands;

        Kings glory in the orb and crown—

        Be ours the glory of our hands,

        Long in these walls—long may we greet

        Your footfalls, Peace and Concord sweet!

        Distant the day, oh! distant far,

        When the rude hordes of trampling War

        Shall scare the silent vale—

        The where

        Now the sweet heaven, when day doth leave

        The air,

        Limns its soft rose-hues on the veil of Eve—

        Shall the fierce war-brand, tossing in the gale,

        From town and hamlet shake the horrent glare!

VIII

        Now, its destined task fulfilled,

        Asunder break the prison-mold;

        Let the goodly Bell we build,

            Eye and heart alike behold.

              The hammer down heave,

              Till the cover it cleave:—

        For not till we shatter the wall of its cell

        Can we lift from its darkness and bondage the Bell.

          To break the mold the master may,

            If skilled the hand and ripe the hour;

          But woe, when on its fiery way

            The metal seeks itself to pour,

          Frantic and blind, with thunder-knell,

            Exploding from its shattered home,

          And glaring forth, as from a hell,

            Behold the red Destruction come!

          When rages strength that has no reason,

          There breaks the mold before the season;

          When numbers burst what bound before,

          Woe to the State that thrives no more!

          Yea, woe, when in the City's heart,

            The latent spark to flame is blown,

         "Freedom! Equality!"—to blood

          And Millions from their silence start,

            To claim, without a guide, their own!

          Discordant howls the warning Bell,

            Proclaiming discord wide and far,

          And, born but things of peace to tell,

            Becomes the ghastliest voice of war:

         "Freedom! Equality!"—to blood

            Rush the roused people at the sound!

          Through street, hall, palace, roars the flood,

            And banded murder closes round!

          The hyena-shapes (that women were!)

            Jest with the horrors they survey;

          They hound—they rend—they mangle there,

            As panthers with their prey!

          Naught rests to hallow—burst the ties

            Of life's sublime and reverent awe;

        Before the Vice the Virtue flies,

              And Universal Crime is Law!

            Man fears the lion's kingly tread;

              Man fears the tiger's fangs of terror;

            And still, the dreadliest of the dread,

              Is Man himself in error!

            No torch, though lit from Heaven, illumes

              The Blind!—Why place it in his hands?

            It lights not him—it but consumes

              The City and the Land!

IX

            Rejoice and laud the prospering skies!

              The kernel bursts its husks—behold

            From the dull clay the metal rise,

              Pure-shining, as a star of gold!

                Neck and lip, but as one beam,

                It laughs like a sunbeam.

        And even the scutcheon, clear-graven, shall tell

        That the art of a master has fashioned the Bell!

            Come in—come in,

            My merry men—we'll form a ring

            The new-born labor christening;

              And "CONCORD" we will name her!

            To union may her heart-felt call

              In brother-love attune us all!

            May she the destined glory win

              For which the master sought to frame her—

            Aloft—(all СКАЧАТЬ