Each the father's breast embraces, Son and daughter; and their faces Colorless grow utterly. Whichever way Looks the fear-struck father gray, He beholds his children die. "Woe ! the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth; Take me, too, the joyless father! Spake the grim Guest, From his hollow, cavernous breast, "Roses in the spring I gather!" SONG OF THE SILENT LAND. FROM THE GERMAN OF SALIS. INTO the Silent Land! Ah! who shall lead us thither? Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather, And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand Who leads us with a gentle hand Thither, O thither, Into the Silent Land? Into the Silent Land! To you, ye boundless regions Of all perfection! Tender morning-visions Of beauteous souls! The Future's pledge and band! Who in Life's battle firm doth stand, Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms Into the Silent Land! O Land O Land! For all the broken-hearted The mildest herald by our fate allotted, Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand To lead us with a gentle hand Into the land of the great Departed, Into the Silent Land! |