The German Parnassus: Specimens of the Choicest Lyrical Compositions of the Most Celebrated German Poets. Translated in English Verse by Mary Anne Burt
The German Parnassus: Specimens of the Choicest Lyrical Compositions of the Most Celebrated German Poets. Translated in English Verse by Mary Anne Burt
This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 Excerpt: ...Her presence, as in times, gone by. In valley and umbrageous wood, Lo! the crusaders' pennons fly, From flower-crowned vessels, on the flood, Is echoing joy's festive cry. O'er mountain-paths, from far and near, The pilgrims haste, in vesture gay, A ladder towards the Heavens appear The crowds who mount that rugged way ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1853 Excerpt: ...Her presence, as in times, gone by. In valley and umbrageous wood, Lo! the crusaders' pennons fly, From flower-crowned vessels, on the flood, Is echoing joy's festive cry. O'er mountain-paths, from far and near, The pilgrims haste, in vesture gay, A ladder towards the Heavens appear The crowds who mount that rugged way. Yet, other pilgrims follow there, Bare-footed, and with dust o'erspread, Coarse, sackcloth garments do they wear, And sprinkle ashes on their head; These, with the pious christians dare To hold communion, no more, The church they enter not, each prayer They utter at the sacred door. One, with expression of despair, Is wandering, slowly on the way, Dishevelled is his waving hair, The pilgrim's beard is long and grey, An iron band, with rust o'erspread, Encircleth his trembling form, With difficulty doth he tread, For chains surround each foot, and arm. A sword, raised by a brother's hand, Once, caused a brother's blood to flow, Yet, melted, it became that band, Which, o'er the wanderer, twineth now. No rest--no solace will he feel, Till, by a miracle of Heaven, The fatal ring--th' encircling steel, From the lone pilgrim's form, is riven. As, on his pilgrimage, he goes, Coarse, iron sandals doth he wear, Yet, from benignant Heaven flows No balm to soothe his keen despair. From realm to region doth he stray: In sanctuaries that he hath found, To countless statues doth he pray, Yet, none can heal his rankling wound. The chapel, on the mountain-brow, He gains, and, at the portal kneels; The vesper-bells are chiming now, And, o'er the throng, deep silence steals. He dares not o'er the threshold tread; The crowd the Virgin, there, survey; The setting sun, around her head, Diffuseth a celestial ray. A galaxy of golden light Spreads o'er arth--ocean-...
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All Editions of The German Parnassus: Specimens of the Choicest Lyrical Compositions of the Most Celebrated German Poets. Translated in English Verse by Mary Anne Burt
