Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/391

Rh My strains but to the careless crowd belong, Their smiles but sorrow to my heart convey; And all who heard my numbers erst with gladness, If living yet, roam o'er the earth in sadness.

Long buried yearnings in my breast arise, Yon calm and solemn spirit-realm to gain; Like the Æolian harp's sweet melodies, My murmuring song breathes forth its changeful strain, A trembling seizes me, tears fill mine eyes, And softer grows my rugged heart amain. All I possess far distant seems to be, The vanished only seems reality.

II.

PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN.

sun still chants, as in old time, With brother-shepherds in choral song, And with his thunder-march sublime Moves his predestined course along. Strength find the angels in his sight, Though he by none may fathomed be; Still glorious is each work of might As when first formed in majesty.

And swift and swift, in wondrous guise, Revolves the earth in splendour bright,