Lifts her hand so white,
Past full many a rock must steersBut should he the haven see,
But show that we are riding.
When the magistrate came to the garden and peep'd in, exclaimed he"Well do I know her, in truth; for when I told you the storyOf that noble deed which was done by the maiden I spoke of,How she seized on the sword, and defended herself, and the servants,She the heroine was! You can see how active her nature.But she's as good as she's strong; for her aged kinsman she tendedUntil the time of his death, for he died overwhelm'd by afflictionAt the distress of his town, and the danger his goods were exposed to.Also with mute resignation she bore the grievous afflictionOf her betroth'd's sad death, a noble young man who, incitedBy the first fire of noble thoughts to struggle for freedom,Went himself to Paris, and soon found a terrible death there.For, as at home, so there, he fought 'gainst intrigue and oppression."
I have eaten; but ne'er have thus relish'd my food!For when glad are the senses, and joyous the blood,
See how swells the tide!
As the morning gave it birth,
Half my task is solved aright;Ev'ry star's to me a sun,
What 'tis gives me pleasure;For of all that earth e'er lends,