204
POEMS OF GOETHE
With the pair of doves
Held in his gentle arm,—
With the beauteous garland of roses,—
Caressing him, so blest in his flowers,
Anacreon,
Storm-breathing godhead!
Not in the poplar grove,
Near the Sybaris' strand,
Not in the mountain's
Sun-illumined brow
Didst thou seize him.
The flower-singing,
Honey-breathing,
Sweetly nodding
Theocritus.
When the wheels were rattling.
Wheel on wheel toward the goal,
High arose
The sound of the lash
Of youth with victory glowing,
In the dust rolling,
As from the mountain fall
Showers of stone in the vale—
Then thy soul was brightly glowing, Pindar—
Glowing? Poor heart?
There, on the hill,—
Heavenly might!
But enough glow
Thither to wend,
Where is my cot?
