Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/224

194 Round his knees all softly twining With their loving eyes detain him; To the plain his course he taketh, Serpent-winding.

Social streamlets Join his waters. And now moves he O'er the plain in silv'ry glory, And the plain in him exults, And the rivers from the plain, And the streamlets from the mountain, Shout with joy, exclaiming: "Brother, Brother, take thy brethren with thee, With thee to thine aged father, To the everlasting ocean, Who, with arms outstretching far, Waiteth for us; Ah, in vain those arms lie open To embrace his yearning children; For the thirsty sand consumes us In the desert waste; the sunbeams Drink our life-blood; hills around us Into lakes would dam us! Brother, Take thy brethren of the plain, Take thy brethren of the mountain With thee, to thy father's arms!"

Let all come, then!— And now swells he Lordlier still; yea, e'en a people Bears his regal flood on high! And in triumph onward rolling, Names to countries gives he,—cities Spring to light beneath his foot.

Ever, ever, on he rushes, Leaves the towers' flame-tipped summits,