RECOLLECTIONS OF FATHERLAND. FROM THE GERMAN OF PHILIP KNIES. FATHERLAND,-of thee I sing!— Bold, I laurels o'er thee fling As Apollo's throne of Song: Fatherland!-the Muses' land!— Land that claims my heart and hand! Beauteous heaven, richly pouring Floods of radiance, pure and bright! With thy sunbeams, heart-alluring, Gleaming in imperial might, God his peaceful covenant drew With golden pen on ground of blue! D Charming provinces are thine— Truly, in this world the fairest ! Heart-attractive land of mine— Under heaven's tent the rarest : Eden's glories yet remain, Scatter'd o'er each sunny plain! Gladsome vales, with roses bright,— Richest pastures, pearl-bedew'd, Stretching far to charm the sight, Fields, with fertile glories strew'd ; There the purple-cluster'd vine Grows to fill the cup divine. Grapes, whose luscious veins are rife With the juicy glowing wine To thy sons the spirit-life, Yield thy banks, old Father Rhine !— Clink the cup, and quaff the wine: Huzza, huzza!" To Father Rhine !" In thy breast Hygeia dwells: Every breeze is pure and free! Full a thousand healing wells, Blessing-fraught, lie hid in thee Land, that God consider'd well, Who shall all thy wonders tell? Nature's throes of giant-birth Gave thee mountains tow'ring high Heaven's pillars based on earth, Bearing up the azure sky: Firm they stand, and seem to brave Gentle are thy maidens fair Guileless-hearted, angel-kin, Who with one his life would share Will the wealth of chasteness win Needs no greater mortal bliss Than to taste her loving kiss! Fair Germania!-Fatherland!— Valiant were thy sons of old: In thy storied annals stand Deeds that should be traced in gold: Fatherland!-the heroes' land!— Land that claims my heart and hand! All renown can give is there- Seer-like vision, strange and rare, That gives dull sense defiance: E'en the simple peasant-hind Proud am I that I was born Child of Hertha's Musenland! Thee, above all lands, I love! THE POET'S MISSIONS. INFANCY. TAKE thy harp, O bard, and sing While life's morn is on the wing, Lays that it may treasure Of celestial birth! Ring, oh, ring its golden string, Bright with peace and beauty; Round thee trusting cherubs bring, As thy sweetest duty On this troubled earth! |