Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge |
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SEHN-SUCHT |
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 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
89
SEHN-SUCHT
From out this lowly vale
O'er which the gray clouds hover,
How blessed were my lot
Could I a path discover.
I see yon virgin hills
Forever fresh and blooming;
O for an eagle's wings
To bear me through the gloaming.
O'er which the gray clouds hover,
How blessed were my lot
Could I a path discover.
I see yon virgin hills
Forever fresh and blooming;
O for an eagle's wings
To bear me through the gloaming.
I hear celestial tones
From seraph lips outringing.
Soft breezes are to me
The breath of spices bringing;
I see the golden fruits
Blink through the dark green masses—
The flowers o'er whose young heads
No wintry tempest passes.
From seraph lips outringing.
Soft breezes are to me
The breath of spices bringing;
I see the golden fruits
Blink through the dark green masses—
The flowers o'er whose young heads
No wintry tempest passes.
Thrice happy they who dwell
Where yon sun ever shineth,
Where soft airs kiss the hills,
For which my spirit pineth.
But woe is me—I hear
The roaring of the river,
Whose black waves dash against my soul,
Forever and forever.
Where yon sun ever shineth,
Where soft airs kiss the hills,
For which my spirit pineth.
But woe is me—I hear
The roaring of the river,
Whose black waves dash against my soul,
Forever and forever.
90
The only skiff I see,
Alas, no helmsman beareth.
Yet hope! Its sails are spread
Full safe for him who dareth.
Thou must have faith; for Jove
Will hurl no prescient thunder;
Nought but a wonder bears thee
On to the land of wonder.
Alas, no helmsman beareth.
Yet hope! Its sails are spread
Full safe for him who dareth.
Thou must have faith; for Jove
Will hurl no prescient thunder;
Nought but a wonder bears thee
On to the land of wonder.
Hartford, Conn., April 22, 1854.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |