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This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 363 pages of information about The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01.


A truce to words, mere empty sound,
Let deeds at length appear, my friends! 
While idle compliments you round,
You might achieve some useful ends. 
Why talk of the poetic vein? 
Who hesitates will never know it;
If bards ye are, as ye maintain,
Now let your inspiration show it. 
To you is known what we require,
Strong drink to sip is our desire;
Come, brew me such without delay! 
Tomorrow sees undone, what happens not today;
Still forward press, nor ever tire! 
The possible, with steadfast trust,
Resolve should by the forelock grasp;
Then she will never let go her clasp,
And labors on, because she must. 
On German boards, you’re well aware,
The taste of each may have full sway;
Therefore in bringing out your play,
Nor scenes nor mechanism spare! 
Heaven’s lamps employ, the greatest and the least,
Be lavish of the stellar lights,
Water, and fire, and rocky heights,
Spare not at all, nor birds, nor beast. 
Thus let creation’s ample sphere
Forthwith in this our narrow booth appear,
And with considerate speed, through fancy’s spell,
Journey from heaven, thence through the world, to hell!



The three Archangels come forward


The Sun, in ancient guise, competing
With brother spheres in rival song,
With thunder-march, his orb completing,
Moves his predestin’d course along;
His aspect to the powers supernal
Gives strength, though fathom him none may;
Transcending thought, the works eternal
Are fair as on the primal day.


With speed, thought baffling, unabating,
Earth’s splendor whirls in circling flight;
Its Eden-brightness alternating
With solemn, awe-inspiring night;
Ocean’s broad waves in wild commotion,
Against the rocks’ deep base are hurled;
And with the spheres, both rock and ocean
Eternally are swiftly whirled.


And tempests roar in emulation
From sea to land, from land to sea,
And raging form, without cessation,
A chain of wondrous agency,
Full in the thunder’s path careering,
Flaring the swift destructions play;
But, Lord, Thy servants are revering
The mild procession of thy day.


Thine aspect to the powers supernal
Gives strength, though fathom thee none may;
And all thy works, sublime, eternal,
Are fair as on the primal day.


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