But, unlike St Preux, he 'seemed less impressed by our scenery than by the beauty of our girls,[13] and his letters bear out the remark.[14] Yet delight in Nature was always with him: Klopstock's lofty morality pours forth all through it. Nature, love, fame, wine, everything is looked at from an ennobling point of view.' Fair is the majesty of all thy works On the green earth, O Mother Nature fair! But fairer the glad face Enraptured with their view. Come from the vine banks of the glittering lake, Or--hast thou climbed the smiling skies anew-- Come on the roseate tip Of evening's breezy wing, And teach my song with glee of youth to glow, Sweet joy, like thee--with glee of shouting youths, Or feeling Fanny's laugh. Behind us far already Uto lay. At whose feet Zurich in the quiet vale Feeds her free sons: behind-- Receding vine-clad hills. Uncloud'd beamed the top of silver Alps, And warmer beat the heart of gazing youths, And warmer to their fair Companions spoke its glow. And Haller's Doris sang, the pride of song; And Hirzel's Daphne, dear to Kleist and Gleim; And we youths sang and felt As each were--Hagedorn. Soon the green meadow took us to the cool And shadowy forest, which becrowns the isle. Then cam'st thou, Joy; thou cam'st Down in full tide to us; Yes, goddess Joy, thyself; we felt, we clasp'd, Best sister of humanity, thyself, With thy dear innocence Accompanied, thyself. Sweet thy inspiring breath, O cheerful Spring; When the meads cradle thee, and their soft airs Into the hearts of youths And hearts of virgins glide, Thou makest feeling conqueror. Ah! through thee Fuller, more tremulous, heaves each blooming breast; With lips spell-freed by thee Young love unfaltering pleads. Fair gleams the wine, when to the social change Of thought, or heart-felt pleasure, it invites, And the 'Socratic' cup With dewy roses bound, Sheds through the bosom bliss, and wakes resolves, Such as the drunkard knows not--proud resolves Emboldening to despair Whate'er the sage disowns. Delightful thrills against the panting heart Fame's silver voice--and immortality Is a great thought.... But sweeter, fairer, more delightful, 'tis On a friend's arm to know oneself a friend.... O were ye here, who love me though afar ... How would we build us huts of friendship, here Together dwell for ever. This is of Fredensborg on an August day: Here, too, did Nature tarry, when her hand Pour'd living beauty over dale and hill, And to adorn this pleasant land Long time she lingered and stood still.... The lake how tranquil! From its level brim The shore swells gently, wooded o'er with green, And buries in its verdure dim The lustre of the summer e'en.... The inner and outer life are closely blended in _The Early Grave_: