Hearts, that have cheered us ever, night and day,
With words that helped us on the rugged way,
The hard, long road of life to whom is due
More than the heart can ever hope to pay
Are they not touchstones, soul-transmuting true
All thoughts to gold, refining thus the clay?
Through the house give glimmering light
By the dead and drowsy fire;
Every elf and fairy sprite
hop as light as bird from brier.
Now, until the break of day
Through this house each fairy stray.
455
Triumph—may be of several kinds—
There's Triumph in the Room
When that Old Imperator—Death—
By Faith
Truth by her own simplicity is known,
Falsehood by varnish and vermilion.
Try and don't let me grieve. Come and try to extinguish
This wild onslaught of sadness that rumbles like mercury in Torricellian void.
Madness, try and forbid me to feel, come and try!
Do not let me rant on about you! We're alone-don't be shy.
Now, extinguish it, do! Only-hotter!
Ihr kriegt mich nicht nieder,
Ohnmächtige Tröpfe!
Ich komme wieder und wieder,
Und meine steigenden Lieder
Wachsen begrabend euch über die Köpfe.
Watching the acting again and again every day,
acting seems to be true now
and truth to be acting.
We sometimes hap on truth in a strange attire,
As even the gods were wont for their designs
To take on bestial forms; subduing so
Their natures, even their divinity,
To the achievement of a mortal thing.
As gold the Lydian touch-stone tries,
So man-the virtuous, valiant, wise
Must to all-powerful Truth submit
His virtue, valour, and his wit.
TRUST thou thy Love: if she be proud, is she not sweet?
Trust thou thy Love: if she be mute, is she not pure?
Lay thou thy soul full in her hands, low at her feet;
Fail, Sun and Breath!--yet, for thy peace, She shall endure.
