 | The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber |  |
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.
Take here the tender harp again,
O Muse! which thou hast lent to me;
I wake no more the joyous strain
To youthful love or social glee.
O Muse! which thou hast lent to me;
I wake no more the joyous strain
To youthful love or social glee.
Forgive the weak and sickly shell
That could so ill my soul express;
What most I wished I durst not tell
And chose my themes from idleness.
That could so ill my soul express;
What most I wished I durst not tell
And chose my themes from idleness.
403
Oft when I told of peace and pleasure,
I marked the hostile sabre shine;
And water, doled in scanty measure,
I drank, who wont to sing of wine.
I marked the hostile sabre shine;
And water, doled in scanty measure,
I drank, who wont to sing of wine.
Might peace, might love's auspicious fire
But gild at last my closing day,
Then Goddess, then return the lyre
To wake perhaps a loftier lay.
But gild at last my closing day,
Then Goddess, then return the lyre
To wake perhaps a loftier lay.
| The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber | |