joy of friendship
Come thou nigh to aid me,
Rosy dawn in thy gaze and
In holy hand the faithful pledge of youth eternal.
Morning's past: the sun of noonday
Scorches with hot ray our heads.
Let us sit beneath the arbour
Singing songs in praise of friendship.
Friendship was our life's red dawning,
And its sunset red shall be.
All through the night a wanderer walks
Sturdy of stride,
With winding vale and sloping height
E'er at his side.
Fair is the night:
On, on he strides, nor slackens speed,
And knows not where his path will lead.
A bird's song in the night is heard,
"Ah me, what hast thou done, O bird,
How dost thou grip my sense and feet
And pourest heart-vexation sweet
Into mine ear--I must remain,
To hearken fain:
Why lure me with inviting strain?"
The good bird speaks, staying his song:
"I lure not thee,--no, thou art wrong--
With these my trills
I lure my mate from off the hills--
Nor heed thy plight.
To me alone the night's not fair.
What's that to thee? Forth must thou fare,
On, onward ever, resting ne'er.
Why stand'st thou now?
What has my piping done to thee,
Thou roaming wight?"
The good bird pondered, silent quite,
"Why doth my piping change his plight?
Why stands he now,
That luckless, luckless, roaming wight?"
TO THE GLACIER
At noontide hour, when first,
Into the mountains Summer treads,
Dedicator makes this dedication for the benefit of the public at large and to the detriment of the Dedicator's heirs and successors.