|
|
Two Voices
are there -one is of the Sea, One of the Mountains;
each a mighty Voice: In both from age to age thou
didst rejoice; They were thy chosen music, Liberty!
There came a tyrant, and with holy glee Thou
fought'st against him; but hast vainly striven: Thou
from thy Alpine holds at length art driven Where not
a torrent murmurs heard by thee. Of one deep bliss
thine ear hath been bereft; Then cleave, O cleave to
that which still is left; For, high-souled Maid, what
sorrow would it be That Mountain floods should
thunder as before, And Ocean bellow from his rocky
shore, And neither awful Voice be heard by Thee!
|
|
|