POEMS OF GOETHE
375
His arms rattle loudly,
His wings rustle proudly,
And flames fill his eyes.
Then finds he each bosom
Defenceless and bare;
They gladly receive him
And welcome him there.
The point of his arrows
He lights in the glow;
They clasp him and kiss him
And fondle him so.
Hei ei o! Popeio!
FROM EGMONT.
ACT I.
Clara winds a skein and sings with Brackenburg.
The drum gives the signal!
Loud rings the shrill fife!
My love leads his troops on
Full armed for the strife,
While his hand grasps his lance
As they proudly advance.
My bosom pants wildly!
My blood hotly flows!
Oh, had I doublet,
A helmet, and hose!
Through the gate with bold footstep
I after him hied,—
Each province, each country
Explored by his side.
