Youth! Thou'rt welcome more than e'er was youth
Sweet is thy repose!How, with heaven-born health imbued,Peacefully he slumbers!Oh thou, born among the ruinsSpread by great antiquity,On thee rest her spirit!He whom it encirclesWill, in godlike consciousness,Ev'ry day enjoy.Full, of germ, unfold,As the smiling springtime'sFairest charm,Outshining all thy fellows!And when the blossom's husk is faded,May the full fruit shoot forthFrom out thy breast,And ripen in the sunshine!
That pinions me as well,And when I'm fully wearied out in time,I lay me down beside some mock-cascade,
The mound's close by, and safe from the wet;
Then exchange they tokens of their truth;
In truth methought I read thy whispers mild
Mute is our minstrel, silent is our song;Sweet the bard's voice whose strains our course attended,
As to seek e'en strangers' lusts to please?"
"Yes, dear mother, you're right!" the son with vivacity answer'dYes, it is she! And unless this very day I conduct herHome as my bride, she will go on her way and escape me for ever,In the confusion of war, and in moving backwards and forwards.Mother, then before my eyes will in vain he unfoldedAll our rich estate, and each year henceforward be fruitful.Yes, the familiar house and the garden will be my aversion.Ah, and the love of my mother no comfort will give to my sorrow,For I feel that by Love each former bond must be loosen'd,When her own bonds she knits; 'tis not the maiden alone whoLeaves her father and mother behind, when she follows her husband.So it is with the youth; no more he knows mother and father.When he beholds the maiden, the only beloved one, approaching.Therefore let me go hence, to where desperation may lead me,For my father already has spoken in words of decision,And his house no longer is mine, if he shuts out the maidenWhom alone I would fain take home as my bride from henceforward."
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