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EVENING. Friedrich Schiller


        (After A picture.)

   Oh! thou bright-beaming god, the plains are thirsting,
   Thirsting for freshening dew, and man is pining;
        Wearily move on thy horses-
        Let, then, thy chariot descend!

   Seest thou her who, from ocean’s crystal billows,
   Lovingly nods and smiles?-Thy heart must know her! 
        Joyously speed on thy horses,-
        Tethys, the goddess, ’tis nods!

   Swiftly from out his flaming chariot leaping,
   Into her arms he springs,-the reins takes Cupid,-
        Quietly stand the horses,
        Drinking the cooling flood.

   Now from the heavens with gentle step descending,
   Balmy night appears, by sweet love followed;
        Mortals, rest ye, and love ye,-
        Phoebus, the loving one, rests!

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