Then she sinks beside his bier,

  And her screams through air resound: 

“I must seek my spouse so dear,

  E’en if in the grave he’s bound.

Shall those limbs of grace divine

  Fall to ashes in my sight?

Mine he was!  Yes, only mine!

Ah, one single blissful night!”
The priests chaunt in chorus:  “We bear out the old,
When long they’ve been weary, and late they’ve grown cold: 
We bear out the young, too, so thoughtless and light.

“To thy priests’ commands give ear!

  This one was thy husband ne’er;

Live still as a Bayadere,

  And no duty thou need’st share.

To deaths silent realms from life,

  None but shades attend man’s frame,

With the husband, none but wife,—­

That is duty, that is fame. 
Ye trumpets, your sacred lament haste to raise
Oh, welcome, ye gods, the bright lustre of days! 
Oh, welcome to heaven the youth from the flame!”

Thus increased her torments are

  By the cruel, heartless quire;

And with arms outstretching far

  Leaps she on the glowing pyre.

But the youth divine outsprings

  From the flame with heav’nly grace,

And on high his flight he wings,

While his arms his love embrace. 
In the sinner repentant the Godhead feels joy;
Immortals delight thus their might to employ. 
Lost children to raise to a heavenly place.

1797.
-----
The pariah.

I. The pariah S prayer.

Dreaded Brama, lord of might!

All proceed from thee alone;
Thou art he who judgeth right!

Dost thou none but Brahmins own? 
Do but Rajahs come from thee?

None but those of high estate?

Didst not thou the ape create,
Aye, and even such as we?

We are not of noble kind,

For with woe our lot is rife;
And what others deadly find

Is our only source of life. 
Let this be enough for men,

Let them, if they will, despise us;

But thou, Brama, thou shouldst prize us,
All are equal in thy ken.

Now that, Lord, this prayer is said,

As thy child acknowledge me;
Or let one be born in-stead,

Who may link me on to thee! 
Didst not thou a Bayadere

As a goddess heavenward raise?

And we too to swell thy praise,
Such a miracle would hear.

1821.
-----
II.  Legend.

[The successful manner in which Goethe employs the simple rhymeless trochaic metre in this and in many other Poems will perhaps be remarked by the reader.]