Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/408

374  Oh, repentant sinful ones, On that bright face gaze ye, And in grateful orisons, Your blest fortune praise ye! Be each virtue of the mind To thy service given! Virgin, mother, be thou kind! Goddess, queen of heaven!

Each thing of mortal birth Is but a type; What was of feeble worth Here becomes ripe. What was a mystery Here meets the eye; The ever-womanly Draws us on high.

 FROM GÖTZ VON BERLICHINGEN.

plays and sings. bow and dart bearing, And torch brightly flaring, Dan Cupid on flies; With victory laden, To vanquish each maiden He roguishly tries. Up! up! On! on! 