Friedrich von Schiller

“ A voice shall she be from above, Like the bright constellations' throng, Who praise their maker as they move, And lead the wreathed year along. Only to grave and lasting things, Be consecrate her metal chime ”

“ Street and market grow more still; Round the candle's social flame, All house-dwellers meet together, And the town gate closes gnarring.
The earth doth dight Herself in black; But the safe burgher at the night Feels no awe, Which fearful wakes the guilty wight, For still watchful is the eye of law. ”

“ And many a man shall hear its tone, For it shall last in after-time, And shall with the afflicted moan, And with devotion's chorus chime. Whatever to earth's lowly son Aye-changing destiny may bring, Shall strike on its metallic crown, And edifying thence shall ring. ”

“ And hourly with his rapid wings, Shall she be touched by flying time. A tongue to destiny shall she lend; Heartless herself to joy or grief, Still with her swing let her attend Upon the changeful game of life. And as the sounds which forth she casts, In mighty tones, on the ear decay; So let her teach that nothing lasts – That all things earthly die away. ”

“ While the bell is cooling now, Rigorous toil may have its rest; As birds gambol on the bough, Each may sport as likes him best. When winking stars appear, Freed from every care, The workman hears the vespers toll, Doubts still vex the master's soul. ”

“ For she dwells in the shadow-land, Who was the mother of the house; Her faithful rule has passed away, Her care no more shall watchful prove; In the orphaned place shall sway Henceforth the stranger, void of love. ”

“ Nought holy is there more; all ties Of pious shame are rent in twain; The bad of the good the place supplies, And freely all the vices reign. To wake the lion is perilous; Destructive is the tiger's tooth; But fearfullest of fears to rouse Is Man in his delirious wrath. Woe's them, who heaven's torch of light Unto the ever-blind would trust; It lights not him; can but ignite, And lands and cities burns to dust.
Master: Joy unto me God hath given! See! how like a star of gold, From its shell, all bright and even, The metal kernel doth unfold. ”

“ Beneficent is fire's strong might When man subdues and watches it; Whate'er with art or toil he does, Unto this heavenly power his owes; But dread this heavenly power grows, When, breaking from its fetters loose, On its own track it ranges wild, Nature's free and daring child. ”

“ The blossom may die, The fruit shall mature; The man must abroad Into hostile life, Mid labor and strife, With craft and with pain, Must gather and gain, Must venture and stake, Good luck to o'ertake. ”

“ If the pliant with the brittle Join to make the proper metal.
For then a perfect tone we find, When soft and hard are well combined, The mild united with the strong. Whoe'er would form eternal bonds Should weigh if heart to heart responds. Folly is short – repentance long.
Mid the bridal tresses slinging Plays the virgin garland bright, When the clear toned church bells ringing To the festive scene invite. Ah! Life's fairest festival Closes also life's young May; With the girdle, with the veil, The fine illusion's torn away.
Passion may fly, Love should endure ”

“ In cheerful league each other aid, And, in fiery movement, are All the powers of art displayed. Man and master calmly rest, Holy freedom their reliance; Each in his own place is blest, To the scorner bids defiance. Labor is the burgher's pride, Success, of industry the prize ”

“ Woe! when it, from bondage freed, When nought its increase can withstand, Through streets alive with crowds doth haste, Whirling its enormous brand; For the elements detest Every work of human hand. From the cloud Blessings pour ”

“ Through the streets' long lines it flies, And with the wind in swiftness vies. As from furnace jaws out-reeking, Glows the hot air; beams are creaking, Windows jarring, pillars sundering, Children screaming, mothers wandering, Cattle lowing 'Neath the ruin. All is hurry, rescue, flight; Clear as daylight gleams the night ”

“ And with mighty blast, as though 'Twould tear away, in violent flight, With itself the earth's own weight, It into heaven's height doth grow, Giant-great! In hopeless state, Man succumbs to strength divine, And amazed and supine Sees his handyworks laid low. ”