Shown in this flowery troop, over the garden dispers'd;any a name dost thou hear assign'd; one after another
Rend ye each chain!
Wholly, fairly, well demean us,Resting, flagging never.
Loud rings the shrill fife!My love leads his troops on
Surely we for wine may languish!
Worthless 'tis for aught beside.
Upon the cypress' purest, youthful bud,
I. TO WERTHER.
The God-man closeth Hell's sad doors,In all His majesty He soars
He waiteth Tali,And Neski knows heTo write with beautyOn silken tablets.I'd deem him present,Had I his words.
Every flowered speaks louder and louder to thee;But if thou here canst decipher the mystic words of the goddess,
And the even thread.
Her only we mean;But all fly away,
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