IX

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IX

Compassion now or wrath inspires

And now philanthropy his soul,

And now his youthful heart desires

The path which leads to glory’s goal.

His harp beneath that sky had rung

Where sometime Goethe, Schiller sung,

And at the altar of their fame

He kindled his poetic flame.

But from the Muses’ loftiest height

The gifted songster never swerved,

But proudly in his song preserved

An ever transcendental flight;

His transports were quite maidenly,

Charming with grave simplicity.