Short the time was--seven days had pass'd not,-- Yet enough 'twas; many mighty princes Sought the woman in her widow's-mourning. Sought the woman,--as their wife they sought her. And the mightiest was Imoski's Cadi, And the woman weeping begg'd her brother: By thy life, my brother, I entreat thee, Let me not another's wife be ever, Lest my heart be broken at the image Of my poor, my dearly-cherish'd children!" To her prayer her brother would not hearken, Fix'd to wed her to Imoski's Cadi. Yet the good one ceaselessly implored him: "Send, at least a letter, oh, my brother, With this message to Imoski's Cadi: 'The young widow sends thee friendly greeting; Earnestly she prays thee, through this letter, That, when thou com'st hither, with thy Suatians, A long veil thou'lt bring me, 'neath whose shadow I may hide, when near the house of Asan, And not see my dearly cherish'd orphans.'" Scarcely had the Cadi read this letter, Than he gather'd all his Suatians round him, And then tow'rd the bride his course directed, And the veil she ask'd for, took he with him. Happily they reach'd the princess' dwelling, From the dwelling happily they led her. But when they approach'd the house of Asan, Lo! the children saw from high their mother, And they shouted: "To thy halls return thou! Eat thy supper with thy darling children!" Mournfully the wife of Asan heard it, Tow'rd the Suatian prince then turn'd she, saying: "Let, I pray, the Suatians and the horses At the loved ones' door a short time tarry, That I may give presents to my children." And before the loved ones' door they tarried, And she presents gave to her poor children, To the boys gave gold-embroider'd buskins, To the girls gave long and costly dresses, To the suckling, helpless in the cradle, Gave a garment, to be worn hereafter. This aside saw Father Asan Aga,-- Sadly cried he to his darling children: "Hither come, ye dear unhappy infants, For your mother's breast is turn'd to iron, Lock'd for ever, closed to all compassion!" When the wife of Asan heard him speak thus, On the ground, all pale and trembling, fell she, And her spirit fled her sorrowing bosom, When she saw her children flying from her. 1775. ----- CANTATAS. ----- May the bard these numbers praise, That are sung his fame to raise. ----- THE Poems composed by Goethe under this title are five in number, of which three are here given. The other two are entirely personal in their allusions, and not of general interest. One of them is a Requiem on the Prince de Ligne, who died in 1814, and whom Goethe calls "the happiest man of the century," and the other was composed in honour of the 70th birthday of his friend Zelter the composer, when Goethe was himself more than 79 (1828). The following sweet aria introduced in the latter is, however, worth giving:-- THE flowers so carefully rear'd, In a garland for him I oft twin'd: How sweet have they ever appear'd,