Wanderer
Sweet is thy repose!
How, with heaven-born health imbued,
Peacefully he slumbers!
Oh thou, born among the ruins
Spread by great antiquity,
On thee rest her spirit!
He whom it encircles
Will, in godlike consciousness,
Ev’ry day enjoy.
Full, of germ, unfold,
As the smiling springtime’s
Fairest charm,
Outshining all thy fellows!
And when the blossom’s husk is faded,
May the full fruit shoot forth
From out thy breast,
And ripen in the sunshine!