Metrical Translations from the German of Goethe, Schiller, Uhland, Heine and Others

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Agentur des Rauhen Hauses, 1852 - German poetry - 167 pages
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Page 30 - ... had not the necessary command of English rhyme and meter, and her grammatical constructions are so distorted in her effort to fill out the verse forms, that there is little ease and grace in the lines. The result is highly unnatural composition, as shown for instance in the lines To a Golden Heart : Thou remembrance of enjoyments flown, Still worn near my heart, Still uniting those whose souls would part,
Page 30 - Would'st thou lengthen Love's short days, now gone? Lilly, can I fly thee? To thy chain Bound, through foreign land Through far vales and woods my way I wend. Lilly's heart not soon from mine again Could be disengaged; Like the bird once caged. Of all these anthologies, the one which gained the largest circulation was The Poetry of Germany
Page 91 - A LEAF. A LEAF falls softly at my feet, Sated with rain and summer heat ; What time this leaf was green and new, I still had parents dear and true. A leaf — how soon it fades away ! Child of the spring, the autumn's prey ; Yet has this leaf outlived, I see, So much that was most dear to me.
Page 161 - As the cares ran o'er hill and thro' vale. They ran and running their queer heads broke, As the rock's sharp edge came across; Then in the bright sunshine they vanished like smoke, And were drowned in the dews on the moss. Now ye see...
Page 105 - And combs her golden hair. She combs it with a comb of gold, And sings a song meantime That has a beauty all untold, — A melody of rhyme.
Page 160 - The grass rose up and would stop their flight, As they fled before the keen gale ; The trees wide branching began to fight, As the cares ran o'er hill and thro
Page 15 - And seem to say, poor child, what grief is thine ? Knowest thou the house ? O! there, O! there, I long with thee, my guardian, to repair. Knowest thou the hill ? Its pathway mid the clouds ? The journeying mules the mountain vapor shrouds ? In caverns dwell the dragon's ancient brood ; The rock is rent, and o'er it pours the flood. Knowest thou the hill ? O ! there, O ! there, Our pathway leads, my father, haste, repair ! The bard is called into the presence of his sovereign, and delights the beauty...
Page 14 - Thro' the dark foliage steals the orange's glow, Where a soft wind plays' 'neath the clear blue sky, Where stands the myrtle and the laurel high?
Page 29 - Good betides you, think of me, And thank the Lord as fervently As for this draught I thank you.
Page 14 - And marble statues stand and look at me, And ask: poor child, what hes been done to thee?

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