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LONGING. Friedrich Schiller


   Could I from this valley drear,
    Where the mist hangs heavily,
   Soar to some more blissful sphere,
    Ah! how happy should I be! 
   Distant hills enchant my sight,
    Ever young and ever fair;
   To those hills I’d take my flight
    Had I wings to scale the air.

   Harmonies mine ear assail,
    Tunes that breathe a heavenly calm;
   And the gently-sighing gale
    Greets me with its fragrant balm. 
   Peeping through the shady bowers,
    Golden fruits their charms display. 
   And those sweetly-blooming flowers
    Ne’er become cold winter’s prey.

   In you endless sunshine bright,
    Oh! what bliss ’twould be to dwell! 
   How the breeze on yonder height
    Must the heart with rapture swell! 
   Yet the stream that hems my path
    Checks me with its angry frown,
   While its waves, in rising wrath,
    Weigh my weary spirit down.

   See-a bark is drawing near,
    But, alas, the pilot fails! 
   Enter boldly-wherefore fear? 
    Inspiration fills its sails,
   Faith and courage make thine own,-
    Gods ne’er lend a helping-hand;
   ’Tis by magic power alone
    Thou canst reach the magic land!

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