Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/413

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Then, dear heart, this comfort borrow In the long day's lingering light— Every day hath its own sorrow. Gladness cometh with the night!

 EPILOGUE TO SCHILLER'S "SONG OF THE BELL."

so it proved! The nation felt, ere long, That peaceful signal, and, with blessings fraught, A new-born joy appeared; in gladsome song To hail the youthful princely pair we sought; While in the living, ever-swelling throng Mingled the crowds from every region brought, And on the stage, in festal pomp arrayed, The we saw displayed.

When, lo! a fearful midnight sound I hear, That with a dull and mournful echo rings. And can it be that of our friend so dear It tells, to whom each wish so fondly clings? Shall death o'ercome a life that all revere? How such a loss to all confusion brings! How such a parting we must ever rue! The world is weeping—shall not we weep, too?

