The Life of Carl Theodor Körner, Bände 1-2

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T. Hurst and Company, 1827
 

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Seite 7 - Twere now to be most happy, for I fear My soul hath her content so absolute That not another comfort like to this Succeeds in unknown fate.
Seite 74 - This ,r,ix the minstrel's fatherland ! How name ye the minstrel's fatherland ? — Now o'er the corses of children slain She weeps a foreign tyrant's reign ; She once was the land of the good oak-tree, The German land, the land of the free : So named we once my fatherland ! Why weeps the minstrel's fatherland? — She weeps, that, for a tyrant, still, Her princes check their people's will ; That her sacred words unheeded fly, And that none will list to her vengeful cry : Therefore weeps my fatherland...
Seite 27 - I have ever deemed myself the favorite of Fortune; she will not forsake me now. That I simply venture my life, is but of little import; but that I offer it, crowned as it is with all the flowery wreaths of love, of friendship, — that I cast away the sweet sensation which lived in the conviction that I should never cause you inquietude or sorrow.— this is, indeed, a sacrifice which can only be opposed to such a prize — our country's freedom.
Seite 75 - She calls for an avenging hand: Thus calls the minstrel's fatherland ! What will she do, thy fatherland? — She will drive her tyrant foes away ; She will scare the bloodhound from his prey; She will bear her son no more a slave, Or will yield him at least a freeman's grave: This will she do, my fatherland ! And what are the hopes of thy fatherland ? — She hopes, at length, for a glorious prize ; She hopes her people will arise ; She hopes in the great award of Heaven ; And she sees, at length,...
Seite 44 - TO DIE. My deep wound burns — my pale lips quake in death — I feel my fainting heart resign its strife, And reaching now the limit of my life, Lord, to thy will I yield my parting breath. Yet many a dream hath charmed my youthful eye : And must life's fairy visions all depart ? 0, surely, no ! for all that fired my heart To rapture here shall live with me on high.
Seite 95 - Ч is still and tranquil all ; Hear we but the watchman's call, < And the night is still and blest. Go to rest ! Slumber sweet! Heavenly forms thy fancy greet ! Be thy visions from above, Dreams of rapture, — dreams of love ! As the fair one's form you meet, Slumber sweet ! Good night! Slumber till the morning light ! Slumber till the dawn of day Brings its sorrows with its ray ! Sleep without or fear or fright ! Our Father wakes ! Good night ! good night ! SWORD-SONG.
Seite 99 - ... Hurrah ! Now let the loved one sing; Now let the clear blade ring, Till the bright sparks shall fly, Heralds of victory! Hurrah ! For hark! the trumpet's warning Proclaims the marriage morning: It dawns in festal pride; Hurrah, thou Iron Bride! Hurrah ! Translation of CT Brooks. T THE THREE STARS HERE are three cheering stars of light O'er life's dark path that shine ; And these fair orbs, so pure and bright, Are song, and love, and wine ! For oh! the soul of song hath power To charm the feeling...
Seite 26 - DEAREST FATHER: " I write to you respecting an event which I feel assured will neither surprise nor shock you. I lately gave you a hint of my purpose, which has now arrived at maturity. Germany rises ; the Prussian eagle, by the beating of her mighty wings, awakes in all true hearts the great hope of German freedom. My poetic art sympathizes for my country ; let me prove myself her worthy son ! Yes, dearest father, I will join the army, will cheerfully throw aside the happy, joyous life which I have...
Seite 75 - Vengeance's self hath given ; She calls on a free, devoted band; She calls for an avenging hand : Thus calls the minstrel's fatherland ! What will she do, thy fatherland? — She will drive her tyrant foes away ; She will scare the bloodhound from his prey ; She will bear her son no more a slave, Or will yield him at least a freeman's grave...
Seite 44 - And must life's fairy visions all depart ? 0, surely, no ! for all that fired my heart To rapture here shall live with me on high. And that fair form that won my earliest vow, That my young spirit prized all else above, And now adored as freedom, now as love, Stands in seraphic guise before me now ; And, as my fading senses fade away, It beckons me, on high, to realms of endless day ! " Few heroic lyrics exhibit a more genuine spirit than the "Sword Song," and

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