But a man's tear most resembles That rich sap the orient knows ; Hidden in the tree, but rarely Of its own free will it flows. Thou must cleave the bark, and pierce it To the inmost heart of all, Perfect, pure, and clear, and golden, Then the precious drops will fall. Soon indeed their flowing ceases, And the tree grows green again; Many a spring-time will it welcome, But the wound, the scar remain. Maid, the wounded tree, remember, On the distant orient steep ; And the man remember, maiden, Whom thou late beheldest weep. ERNST VON FEUCHTERSLEBEN. [1806-1849.] IT IS ALMIGHTY GOD'S DECREE. It is Almighty God's decree That from our dearest there must be A parting, Although there's nought on earth below That causes us such bitter woe As parting. If one gives thee a rosebud rare, In water set the flow'ret fair; But know That if a rose bloom forth next day, Before the night 'twill fade away— This know. And if God gives a love to thee, Thou holdest her thine own to be To keep, She'll be but little while thine own, Then she will leave thee quite alone Then weep. But thou must understand me well: When parting friends their sorrows tell, They say, 'Until we meet, farewell!' |