As from furnace-jaws out-reeking, Glows the hot air; beams are creaking, Windows jarring, pillars sundering, Children screaming, mothers wandering, Cattle lowing 'Neath the ruin. All is hurry, rescue, flight; Clear as day-light gleams the night; Thro' the long and emulous band Flies the bucket; arching high It falleth; in the granary, In hopeless state, Man succumbs to strength divine, And amazed and supine Sees his handy-works laid low. c 2 Leergebrannt Ist die Ståtte, Bilder Stürme rauhes Bette. In den öden Fensterhöhlen Wohnt das Grauen, und des Himmels Wolken schauen Hoch hinein. Einen Blick Nach dem Grabe Seiner Habe Sendet noch der Mensch zurück — In die Erd' ist's aufgenommen, Wird's auch schön zu Tage kommen, Daß es Fleiß und Kunst vergilt? Wenn der Guß mißlang? Wenn die Form zersprang ? hat uns unheil schon getroffen. Bare and burnt Is the space, The wild storms' rough resting-place. In the desolate window-cells Horror broods; And from heaven the lofty clouds Peer within. One look the last Tow'rds the tomb Of his home, Doth the Man behind him cast Then cheerful grasps his staff to roam; Whate'er the fire's rage hath o'erthrown, One comfort, sweet remains unmov'd, He counts the heads of his belov'd, And lo! not one dear head is lost! 'Tis receiv'd within the Earth; Should the mould prove frail! Ah! perhaps while hoping thus Mischance e'en now hath stricken us. Dem dunkeln Schooß der heil'gen Erde Vertrauen wir der Hånde That, Von dem Dome, Schwer und bang, Tônt die Glocke Grabgefang. Ernst begleiten ihre Trauerschläge Einen Wandrer auf dem legten Wege. Uch die Gattinn ist's, die theure, Die der schwarze Fürst der Schatten Die sie an der treuen Brust Wachsen sah mit Mutterlust To the dark womb of holy earth, In sorrow to the earth's dark womb, From the tower Tolls the bell, Dull and heavy, The funeral knell ; Sad its melancholy notes convey Some poor wand'rer on the long last way. Ah! it is the wife, the dear one! Whom the gloomy Prince of Shades |