Goddess, queen of heaven!

Chorus mystics.

Each thing of mortal birth

Is but a type
What was of feeble worth

Here becomes ripe. 
What was a mystery

Here meets the eye;
The ever-womanly

Draws us on high.

(Finis.)
-----
From iphigenia in Tauris.

Act iv.  Scene 5.

Song of the fates.

Ye children of mortals
The deities dread! 
The mastery hold they
In hands all-eternal,
And use them, unquestioned,
What manner they like.

Let him fear them doubly,
Whom they have uplifted! 
On cliffs and on clouds, oh,
Round tables all-golden,
he seats are made ready.

When rises contention,
The guests are humid downwards
With shame and dishonor
To deep depths of midnight,
And vainly await they,
Bound fast in the darkness,
A just condemnation.

But they remain ever
In firmness unshaken
Round tables all-golden. 
On stride they from mountain
To mountain far distant: 
From out the abysses’
Dark jaws, the breath rises
Of torment-choked Titans
Up tow’rds them, like incense
In light clouds ascending.

The rulers immortal
Avert from whole peoples
Their blessing-fraught glances,
And shun, in the children,
To trace the once cherish’d,
Still, eloquent features
Their ancestors wore.

Thus chanted the Parae;
The old man, the banish’d,
In gloomy vault lying,
Their song overheareth,
Sons, grandsons remembereth,
And shaketh his head.
-----
From Gotz von berlichingen.

Act ii.

LIEBETRAUT plays and sings.

His bow and dart bearing,
And torch brightly flaring,

Dan Cupid on flies;
With victory laden,
To vanquish each maiden

  He roguishly tries.

    Up! up!

On! on! 
His arms rattle loudly,
His wings rustle proudly,
And flames fill his eyes.

Then finds he each bosom

Defenseless and bare;
They gladly receive him

And welcome him there. 
The point of his arrows

He lights in the glow;
They clasp him and kiss him

And fondle him so. 
He e o!  Pap!

From Egmont.

Act I.

Clara winds a skein, and sings with Brackenburg.

The drum gives the signal!

Loud rings the shrill fife! 
My love leads his troops on

Full arm’d for the strife,
While his hand grasps his lance
As they proudly advance.

My bosom pants wildly! 
My blood hotly flows! 
Oh had I a doublet,
A helmet, and hose!

Through the gate with bold footstep