FROM THE GERMAN OF BARON DE LA MOTTE FOUQUE.

Had God no idol taken—
No idol of thine eye,
And had He fear'd to waken
Grief's agonising cry,
How then couldst thou for dying,
Thy soul, O man, prepare?
Ah me! 'twould soon be lying
In dismal, dark despair.

Now one by one are riven
Thy fondest, dearest ties;
Thus trustfully to heaven
Through death thou may'st arise
Thy earthly bonds now broken,
Thy soul to God is led.
This truth has oft been spoken,
But ne'er too often said.