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Hold your tongues ! both Swabian and Saxon!
A bold Bohemian cries;
In Bohemia it lies.
There the tailor blows the flute,
And the cobler blows the horn, And the miner blows the bugle,
Over mountain gorgeand bourn.
And then the landlord's daughter
Up to heaven raised her hand,
There lies the happiest land!
FROM THE GERMAN OF TIEDGE.
WHITHER, thou turbid wave ? Whither, with so much haste,
As if a thief wert thou ?
I am the Wave of Life,
FROM THE GERMAN OF KLOPSTOCK.
How they so softly rest,
Deep to corruption
And they no longer weep, Here, where complaint is still ! And they no longer feel, Here, where all gladness flies! And by the cypresses Softly o'ershadowed, Until the Angel Calls them, they slumber !
THE BIRD AND THE SHIP.
FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER.
The rivers rush into the sea,
By castle and town they go ; The winds behind them merrily
Their noisy trumpets blow.
The clouds are passing far and high,
We little birds in them play ; And every thing, that can sing and fly,
Goes with us, and far away.