First the orange, which lay heavy as though 'twere of gold,Then the yielding fig, by the slightest pressure disfigur'd,
I have taken advantage of the publication of a Second Editionof my translation of the Poems of Goethe (originally published in1853), to add to the Collection a version of the much admiredclassical Poem of Hermann and Dorothea, which was previouslyomitted by me in consequence of its length. Its universalpopularity, however, and the fact that it exhibits theversatility of Goethe's talents to a greater extent than,perhaps, any other of his poetical works, seem to call for itsadmission into the present volume.
The man who gratis will his goods supplyWill never find a lack of folks to buy!
The tree's first bloom in Spring;They hail my joyous strain,--When Winter comes again,
[This little song describes the different members of the partyjust spoken of.]
Would near me lie?--On the soft couch, on whose sweet shrine
Thou sayest, to grow old my fate will be.Nought in God's presence changeth e'er,--
Slashing him across the face.
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