The Poems of Schiller — Second period
once more, When, vanquished by Time's silent flight, Life's blossoms faded from the cheek, And from the limbs all vigor went, And mournfully, with footstep weak, Upon his staff the gray-beard leant. Then gave ye to the languishing, Life's waters from a new-born spring; Twice was the youth of time renewed, Twice, from the seeds that ye had strewed. When chased by fierce barbarian hordes away, The last remaining votive brand ye tore From Orient's altars, now pollution's prey, And to these western lands in safety bore. The fugitive from yonder eastern shore, The youthful day, the West her dwelling made; And on Hesperia's plains sprang up once more Ionia's flowers, in pristine bloom arrayed. Over the spirit fairer Nature shed, With soft refulgence, a reflection bright, And through the graceful soul with stately tread Advanced the mighty Deity of light. Millions of chains were burst asunder then, And to the slave then human laws applied, And mildly rose the younger race of men, As brethren, gently wandering side by side, With noble inward ecstasy, The bliss imparted ye receive, And in the veil of modesty, With silent merit take your leave. If on the paths of thought, so freely given, The searcher now with daring fortune stands, And, by triumphant Paeans onward driven,     Would seize upon the crown with dauntless hands—    If he with grovelling hireling's pay Thinks to dismiss his glorious guide—    Or, with the first slave's-place array Art near the throne his dream supplied—    Forgive him!—O'er your head to-day Hovers perfection's crown in pride, With you the earliest plant Spring had, Soul-forming Nature first began; With you, the harvest-chaplet glad, Perfected Nature ends her plan. The art creative, that all-modestly arose From clay and stone, with silent triumph throws Its arms around the spirit's vast domain. What in the land of knowledge the discoverer knows, He knows, discovers, only for your gain The treasures that the thinker has amassed, He will enjoy within your arms alone, Soon as his knowledge, beauty-ripe at last. To art ennobled shall have grown,—    Soon as with you he scales a mountain-height, And there, illumined by the setting sun, The smiling valley bursts upon his sight. The richer ye reward the eager gaze The higher, fairer orders that the mind May traverse with its magic rays, Or compass with enjoyment unconfined—    The wider thoughts and feelings open lie To more luxuriant floods of harmony. To beauty's richer, more majestic stream,—    The fair members of the world's vast scheme, That, maimed, disgrace on his creation bring, He 
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