Ask not what I have, my loved one,-- Ask me rather what I am; For but little wealth I boast of, But I’m gentle as a lamb. Do not ask me how I’m living, But for what, that ask of me; For I live in want, and lonely, Yet I live alone for thee. Do not ask me of my pleasures, Ask not of my bitter smart; Pleasure ever flies his presence Who doth own a broken heart. MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. GERMANY. 1815. Let me sing Germania’s glory! Hearken to my noblest strains! While my spirit tells the story, Thrilling bliss runs through my veins. Time’s book is before me lying, All things that have happened here, Good with Evil ever vying-- All before my gaze stands clear. From the Frenchman’s distant nation Hell approach’d, with impious hand, Bringing shame and desecration On our much-loved German land. All our faith and virtue soiling, All our heavenly yearnings fled, All we deemed of worth, despoiling,-- Giving sin and pain instead. German shame to gild refusing, Dark the German sun soon grew, And a mournful voice accusing Pierced the German oak trees through. Now the sun once more is glancing, And the oak trees roar with joy; The avengers are advancing, Shame and sorrow to destroy. And deceit’s proud altars hateful Totter, fall with hideous sound; Every German heart is grateful, Free is German holy ground. See’st the glare yon mount illuming? Say, what can that wild flame be? Yes! that fire proclaims the blooming Image pure of Germany. From the night of sin emerging Germany uninjured stands; Wildly is the spot still surging, Where that fair form burst her bands. On the old oak’s stems in splendour Glorious blossoms fast unfold; Foreign blossoms fall, and tender Breezes greet us as of old. All that’s virtuous is returning, All that’s good appears once more And the German, fondly yearning, Is exulting as of yore. Ancient manners, ancient German Virtues, and heroic deeds! Valiantly each son of Hermann[3] Waves his sword and proudly bleeds. Heroes never doves engender, Lionlike is Hermann’s race; Yet may love’s religion tender Well near valour take its place. Germans through their sorrows lonely Learnt Christ’s gentle word to prize; Their land ’genders brethren only, And humanity is wise. Once again returns the glorious Noble love of minstrel’s song, Well becoming the victorious Breasts of German heroes strong, As they to the war are going With the Frank to cross the sword, To take signal vengeance glowing For their perfidy abhorr’d.