The Descent into Hell Second Edition, Revised and Re-arranged, with an Analysis and Notes: To which are added, Uriel, a Fragment and Three Odes. By John A. Heraud |
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KLOPSTOCK'S “DER FRÜHLINGSFEYER;”
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 | The Descent into Hell |  |
KLOPSTOCK'S “DER FRÜHLINGSFEYER;”
OR, THE SOLEMNIZATION OF SPRING.
Not into the World-Ocean would I soar,
Nor hover where the First-Create adore,
The Sons of Light, a Choir of Jubilee,
And, as they worship, sink in ecstasy—
But round the Drop upon the Bucket's brim,
Only round Earth, I hover worshipping—
Sing, Hallelujah! Hallelujah! sing!
The Drop upon the Bucket, (praise to Him!)
Did also flow, at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
Nor hover where the First-Create adore,
The Sons of Light, a Choir of Jubilee,
And, as they worship, sink in ecstasy—
But round the Drop upon the Bucket's brim,
Only round Earth, I hover worshipping—
Sing, Hallelujah! Hallelujah! sing!
The Drop upon the Bucket, (praise to Him!)
Did also flow, at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
When from his hand of Power Infinite
The greater Earths outwelled,
When rushed the Streams of Light,
And the Planets Seven compelled —
Then flowedst thou, Drop! at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
The greater Earths outwelled,
When rushed the Streams of Light,
And the Planets Seven compelled —
Then flowedst thou, Drop! at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
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When rushed a Stream of Light, and grew our Sun,
When dashed, like storm-cloud down a rock,
Of lustrous waves a billowy shock,
And girt Orion, belted One—
Then flowedst thou, Drop! at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
When dashed, like storm-cloud down a rock,
Of lustrous waves a billowy shock,
And girt Orion, belted One—
Then flowedst thou, Drop! at his command,
Out of the hollow of the Almighty's hand!
The thousand-thousands, myriads—what are they,
The Drop who people or have peopled?—nay,
What even am I? To the Creator's praise
Loud Hallelujahs raise!—
More than all Earths that from his hand outwelled,
More than the Starry Seven that were from rays compelled.
The Drop who people or have peopled?—nay,
What even am I? To the Creator's praise
Loud Hallelujahs raise!—
More than all Earths that from his hand outwelled,
More than the Starry Seven that were from rays compelled.
But thou, O greenly golden Worm of Spring!
That flutterest nigh with playful glance—
Thou livest—thou—and art, perchance,
Ah! no immortal thing!—
Forth went to worship I—
Weep I instead? Forgive—forgive—
This tear to poor mortality,
Thou who for aye dost live!
Thou wilt all doubts to me unveil, even Thou,
Who through Death's valley dark and dern
Wilt guide my path! I then shall learn,
Whether the golden Worm a Soul endow—
Art thou but shaped Dust alone?
Offspring of May—thus then,
Dispersant dust become again
Or what else wills the Eternal One.
That flutterest nigh with playful glance—
Thou livest—thou—and art, perchance,
Ah! no immortal thing!—
Forth went to worship I—
Weep I instead? Forgive—forgive—
This tear to poor mortality,
Thou who for aye dost live!
Thou wilt all doubts to me unveil, even Thou,
Who through Death's valley dark and dern
Wilt guide my path! I then shall learn,
Whether the golden Worm a Soul endow—
Art thou but shaped Dust alone?
Offspring of May—thus then,
Dispersant dust become again
Or what else wills the Eternal One.
Shed thou anew, my Eye!
The tears of gladness—
My Harp! rise thou from sadness,
And praise the Lord on High.
Wreathed again, with palms—with palms
Wreathed is my harp, my lips are glad with psalms—
Here stand I, while around my raptured sense
All teems with Wonder, with Omnipotence.
Creation I behold with awe of heart—
For Thou!
O Nameless! Thou!
Its Author art!
The tears of gladness—
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And praise the Lord on High.
Wreathed again, with palms—with palms
Wreathed is my harp, my lips are glad with psalms—
Here stand I, while around my raptured sense
All teems with Wonder, with Omnipotence.
Creation I behold with awe of heart—
For Thou!
O Nameless! Thou!
Its Author art!
Airs! that about me blow,
And breathe soft coolness on my fervid brow—
Marvellous Airs! his Word of might
Sent you—the Lord, the Infinite!
But now they hush—they scarcely breathe—
The morning-sun glows sultrily—
Above, clouds stream and wreathe—
He comes—the Eternal!—visibly.
They swoop—they rush—the Winds whirl now!
How bows the Wood—the Stream swells how!
Visible, as to mortals thou mayst be,
Thou comest, Infinite! ay, visibly!
The Forest bends—the Stream recedes apace—
And fall I not upon my face?
Lord! Lord! God! merciful! and full of grace!
Have mercy, thou who art so nigh, on me!
And breathe soft coolness on my fervid brow—
Marvellous Airs! his Word of might
Sent you—the Lord, the Infinite!
But now they hush—they scarcely breathe—
The morning-sun glows sultrily—
Above, clouds stream and wreathe—
He comes—the Eternal!—visibly.
They swoop—they rush—the Winds whirl now!
How bows the Wood—the Stream swells how!
Visible, as to mortals thou mayst be,
Thou comest, Infinite! ay, visibly!
The Forest bends—the Stream recedes apace—
And fall I not upon my face?
Lord! Lord! God! merciful! and full of grace!
Have mercy, thou who art so nigh, on me!
Lord! wroth art thou,
That Night is thus thy garment now?
This Night to Earth is Blessing rather—
Thou art not wroth, O Father!
That Night is thus thy garment now?
This Night to Earth is Blessing rather—
Thou art not wroth, O Father!
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Before Thee all is still; Approaching Power!
All round about is in deep stillness lying!
The gold-clad Worm looks upward in this hour—
Not soul-less then, perhaps? perhaps, undying?
O were my power to praise Thee as my will!
Ever more glorious thou thyself revealest—
Darker the night becomes where thou concealest,
But heavier grows with Blessing—fuller still!
All round about is in deep stillness lying!
The gold-clad Worm looks upward in this hour—
Not soul-less then, perhaps? perhaps, undying?
O were my power to praise Thee as my will!
Ever more glorious thou thyself revealest—
Darker the night becomes where thou concealest,
But heavier grows with Blessing—fuller still!
Sign of him nigh, see ye the quivering beam?
Jehovah's thunder hear ye?
Hear ye it, how near ye?
The shattering thunder of the Lord Supreme!
Lord! Lord! God!
The merciful! the full of grace!
Be worship and high laud
Unto thy glorious Name!—
—And the storm-winds? They bear the Thunder!
How they rush!
O how, in their impetuous mood,
They stream with loud waves through the wood!
And now they hush—
And slowly, in its place,
The swart cloud wanders whence they came.
Jehovah's thunder hear ye?
Hear ye it, how near ye?
The shattering thunder of the Lord Supreme!
Lord! Lord! God!
The merciful! the full of grace!
Be worship and high laud
Unto thy glorious Name!—
—And the storm-winds? They bear the Thunder!
How they rush!
O how, in their impetuous mood,
They stream with loud waves through the wood!
And now they hush—
And slowly, in its place,
The swart cloud wanders whence they came.
New token now, see ye the flashing beam?
Hear ye on high his thunder, Lord Supreme?
He calls: Jehovah!—Jehovah!—Alas!
Smokes the smit forest—but—
Oh! not our Hut!
Our Father gave command,
His dread Destroyer's brand
Our Hut should overpass!
Hear ye on high his thunder, Lord Supreme?
He calls: Jehovah!—Jehovah!—Alas!
Smokes the smit forest—but—
Oh! not our Hut!
Our Father gave command,
His dread Destroyer's brand
Our Hut should overpass!
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Ah! pours already—ah! already pours
Heaven, and Earth flows with the prolifick Showers!
Now is the Earth refreshed (how thirsted she!)
And Heaven of his full Blessing is set free—
No more Jehovah comes in storm and dread,
But in still murmurs sweet,
He comes; and underneath his feet,
Behold the Bow of Peace, an arch of beauty, spread.
Heaven, and Earth flows with the prolifick Showers!
Now is the Earth refreshed (how thirsted she!)
And Heaven of his full Blessing is set free—
No more Jehovah comes in storm and dread,
But in still murmurs sweet,
He comes; and underneath his feet,
Behold the Bow of Peace, an arch of beauty, spread.
December, 1833 .
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