Ludwig Tieck

“ No after spirit shall have power to reach.
Gaze thou entranced upon the rising sun,
Or golden light of eve.—Wander alone
By dewy moonlight thro' the still, green wood,
And with a pulse, whose every beat is joy,
Watch how the buds swell from the dark brown rind
Call'd forth by spring.—Be great, yet nothing reck
Of thine own greatness—keep an innocent heart,
Unsoiled by taint of pride. Not to thyself,
Though to all else, seem thou the first of men. ”

“ On that rude mountain, thro' that sombre wood,
Oft sat forlorn in the waste solitude,
Or pined in dim caves, with the hooting Owl:
'Twas then I watch'd the drop gradual distil
Into the flower. All such slow-ripened fruits
A spirit pervades, that with the human soul
Hath a mysterious sympathy—in some
A healing virtue dwells, to cure disease.
Some will excite Ambition—Hatred—Love—
The flower my servant seeks, will kindle high
The glow of fervid phantasy. They come. ”

“ As never mortal after thee shall sing!
These odorous buds, that on thy breast I lay,
Wake in thee tenderest sensibility,
The might of love, a fancy pure and bright—
More heavenly bright, than ever yet has burned
In mortal breast. ”

“ Such royal gifts, as Oberon and his Queen
I have not to bestow.—Yet, I can breathe
A merry humour into thee.—Be thine
The power, whene'er thou will'st, to drive away
Black melancholy from each human breast! ”

“ I say fortunately, adds Bulow, not that I at all believed that these productions would be available now for the press, as Tieck had made his choice and already printed several of them in his collected works.
Yet, for the man of letters, even the least successful and defective attempts of a great genius that he has studied, loved, and honoured, must always be interesting as marking the youthful developement of his powers. ”

“ They undoubtedly manifested in him even then the same courageous derision of the follies of the time which is handled in so masterly a manner in his "Gestiefelte Kater," and repeated in his "Zerbino;" but the governing tone of his first poems remains always what we have named. ”