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; 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. Leergebrannt Ist die Ståtte, Wilder 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, 4 Glücklich ist die Form gefüllt; Wird's auch schön zu Tage kommen, Daß es Fleiß und Kunst vergilt? Wenn der Guß mißlang? Wenn die Form zersprang ? Hat uns unheit 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- 'Tis receiv'd within the Earth; If the cast should fail Should the mould prove frail ! Ah! perhaps while hoping thus Mischance e'en now hath stricken us. Dem dunkeln Schooß der heil'gen Erde Von dem Dome, Schwer und bang, Tônt die Glocke Grabgesang. Ernst begleiten ihre Trauerschläge Einen Wandrer auf dem legten Wege. Uch die Gattinn ist's, die theure, Die der schwarze Fürst der Schatten To the dark womb of holy earth, Do we our handy-work confide; The sower too confides his seed, 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! Ah! it is the tender mother! Whom the gloomy Prince of Shades From her mate's embraces leads; From the group of children dear, Which blooming unto him she bare; Which growing on her faithful breast, She watch'd with a mother's interest. |