Ludwig Tieck

“ And through the green grass play, with airy lightness,
Soft, fitful, blue and golden streaks of brightness.
Like a shadow, melts and flits away
All that bound men to this world of clay;
In Earth all toil and tumult cease,
Like one bright flower it blooms in peace;
The mountains rock in purple light,
The valleys shout as with delight;
All rush and whirl in the music’s noise,
And long to share of these offer’d joys;
The soul of man is allured to gladness,
And lies entranced in that blissful madness.
The Trusty Eckart felt it,
⁠But wist not of the cause ”

“ There straight a Shape will meet him,
⁠The Trusty Eckart’s ghost,
And wistfully entreat him
⁠To turn, and not be lost.
There he, though dead, yet ever
⁠True watch and ward doth hold;
Upon the Earth shall never
⁠Be man so true and bold.
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