 | Songs of Consolation |  |
11
COMPLEMENTALS.
1.
YOUTH, if I loved thee well,
If in thy frolic hours,
Broidered with birds and flowers,
Dearly I loved to dwell,
Oft of thy skittish spell,
I, by the heavenly powers,
Tired, of thy sweets and sours,
Shifting from heaven to hell.
If in thy frolic hours,
Broidered with birds and flowers,
Dearly I loved to dwell,
Oft of thy skittish spell,
I, by the heavenly powers,
Tired, of thy sweets and sours,
Shifting from heaven to hell.
Now is thy nesh tale told;
Turned is thy pictured page;
Changed are its blue and gold
Into the blank of age.
Solace in growing old
Yet is there for the sage.
Turned is thy pictured page;
Changed are its blue and gold
Into the blank of age.
Solace in growing old
Yet is there for the sage.
Youth is a sunny sea;
Age is an inland lake.
Often the tempests wake,
Often the wild waves flee,
Often the surge we see
Shallop and ship o'ertake,
Drive them to beach and break
Up on the land a-lee.
Age is an inland lake.
Often the tempests wake,
Often the wild waves flee,
Often the surge we see
Shallop and ship o'ertake,
Drive them to beach and break
Up on the land a-lee.
12
Over the lake the sky
Hangs with a saddened hue;
Seldom a sail flits by,
White on the sparkling blue:
Yet, if it sunless lie,
Stormless it lieth too.
Hangs with a saddened hue;
Seldom a sail flits by,
White on the sparkling blue:
Yet, if it sunless lie,
Stormless it lieth too.
2.
Love, if I held thee dear,
If in thy sun-filled air
Fain was I still to fare,
Glad in thy golden year,
Yet of thy changeful cheer
Weary I waxed, of fair
Shifting to foul fore'er,
Smile growing frown, hope fear.
If in thy sun-filled air
Fain was I still to fare,
Glad in thy golden year,
Yet of thy changeful cheer
Weary I waxed, of fair
Shifting to foul fore'er,
Smile growing frown, hope fear.
Now is thy time fordone;
Evening upon thy day
Come is, for storm and sun
Peace, with her skies of gray.
Tag ohne Trost is none,
Autumn as well as May.
Evening upon thy day
Come is, for storm and sun
Peace, with her skies of gray.
Tag ohne Trost is none,
Autumn as well as May.
Love is a mid-Spring day;
Peace an October night.
Oft, in its mid-delight,
Cometh a storm in May,
Wasteth its fair array:
Canker and rust and blight
Feed on its lovely might,
Sweeping its sweets away.
Peace an October night.
Oft, in its mid-delight,
Cometh a storm in May,
Wasteth its fair array:
Canker and rust and blight
Feed on its lovely might,
Sweeping its sweets away.
13
Over October's skies
Scant is the sun of power;
Yet is it fair and wise;
Stirless of storm and shower,
Lightning and blast, it lies,
Calm and content its dower.
Scant is the sun of power;
Yet is it fair and wise;
Stirless of storm and shower,
Lightning and blast, it lies,
Calm and content its dower.
| Songs of Consolation | |