The Poems of Goethe Part 137

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Yonder roses, from the holy Hands of penitents so lowly, Help'd to render us victorious, And to do the deed all-glorious; For they gain'd us this soul-treasure.

Evil ones those roses banish'd,

Devils, when we met them, vanish'd.

Spirits felt love's pangs with pleasure, Where h.e.l.l's torments used to dwell; E'en the h.o.a.ry king of h.e.l.l Felt sharp torments through him run.

Shout for joy! the prize is won.

THE MORE PERFECT ANGELS.

Strains of mortality

Long have oppress'd us; Pure could they ever be,

If of asbestos.

If mighty spirit-strength

Elements ever Knew how to seize at length,

Angels could never Link'd twofold natures move,

Where single-hearted; By nought but deathless love

Can they be parted.

THE YOUNGER ANGELS.

See where a spirit-race

Bursts on the sight!

Dimly their forms I trace

Round the far height.

Each cloud becometh clear, While the bright troops appear

Of the blest boys,

From the Earth's burden free, In a glad company

Drinking in joys, Born of the world above,

Springtime and bliss.

May they forerunners prove Of a more perfect love,

Link'd on to this!

THE BEATIFIED CHILDREN.

Thus as a chrysalis

Gladly we gain him, And as a pledge of bliss

Safely retain him; When from the sh.e.l.l he's free

Whereby he's tainted, Perfect and fair he'll be,

Holy and sainted.

DOCTOR MARINAS.

(In the highest, purest cell.)

Wide is the prospect here,

Raised is the soul; Women on high appear,

Seeking their goal.

'Mongat them the radiant one,

Queen of the skies, In her bright starry crown

Greets my glad eyes.

(With ecstasy.)

Thou who art of earth the queen.

Let me, 'neath the blue Heav'nly canopy serene

Thy sweet mystery view!

Grant the gentle solemn force

Which the breast can move.

And direct our onward course

Tow'rd thy perfect love.

Dauntless let our courage be,

At thy bright behest; Mild our ardour suddenly,

When thou bidd'st us rest.

Virgin, type of holiness,

Mother, honour-crown'd, Thou whom we as queen confess,

G.o.dlike and renowned.

Round her, in gentle play,

The Poems of Goethe Part 137

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The Poems of Goethe Part 137 summary

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