4 To a Quondam Follower of Goethe. (1832.)
Hast thou, then, superior risen
To the chilly dream of glory
Which great Weimar’s poet hoary
Wove around thee, like a prison?
Are thy old friends bores now voted?—
Clara, Gretchen,—names familiar,—
Serlo’s chaste maid, and Ottilia
In the “Wahlverwandschaft” noted?
Thou’rt with Germany enchanted,
Art become a Mignon-hater,
And thou seek’st for freedom greater
Than Philina ever granted.
Like a Luneburgomaster,
Thou dost battle for the nation,
Holding up to execration
Kings, as causing all disaster.
And I hear with pleasure hearty,
What a pitch thy praises grow to,
And how thou’rt a Mirabeau, too,
At each Luneburg tea-party!