Classic and Contemporary Poetry
SPRING GREETING TO THE FATHERLAND, by MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED SCHENKENDORF Poet's Biography First Line: Fatherland, thy pleasures greet me Last Line: Keep this concord, and be true! Subject(s): Nationalism - Germany | ||||||||
FATHERLAND, thy pleasures greet me After bondage, war's distress! I must steep my soul completely Here in all thy gorgeousness. Where the oak-trees murmur mildly With their crowns to heaven raised, Mighty streams are roaring wildly There the German land be praised. From the Rhinefall, all delighted, I have walked, from Danube's spring; Mildly, in my soul benighted Love-stars rose, illumining; Now I would descend, and brightly Radiate a joyous shine Into Neckar's valleys sprightly, O'er the blue and silver Main. Onward fly, my message, bringing Freedom's greeting evermore, Far away thou shalt be ringing By my home on Memel's shore. Where the German tongue is spoken, Hearts have fought to make her free Fought right gladlythere unbroken Stays our sacred Germany. All with sunlight seems a-blazing, All things seem adorned with green pastures where the herds are grazing, Hills where ripening grapes are seen. Such a spring time has not graced thee, Fatherland, for thousand years; Glory of thy fathers faced thee Once in dreams, and now appears. Once more weapons must be wielded; Go, a spirit-fray begin, Till the latest foe has yielded He who threatens you within. Passions vile ye should be blighting, Hate, suspicion, envy, greed Then take, after heavy fighting, German hearts, the rest ye need. Then shall all men be possessing Honor, humbleness, and might, And thus only can the blessing Sent our monarch shine with right. All the ancient sins must perish In the God-sent deluge all, And the heritage we cherish To a worthy heir must fall. God has blessed the grain that's growing And the vineyard's fruit no less; Men with hunter's joy are glowing; In the homes reigns happiness. And our freedom's sure foundation, Pious longing, fills the breast; Love that charms in every nation In our German land is best. Ye that are in castles dwelling, Or in towns that grace our soil, Farmers that in harvests swelling Reap the fruits of German toil German brothers dear, united, Mark my words both old and new! That our land may stay unblighted, Keep this concord, and be true! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HURRAH, GERMANIA! by FERDINAND FREILIGRATH MASQUE TO COMMEMORATE THE SPIRIT OF THE WARS OF LIBERATION by GERHART HAUPTMANN LUTZOW'S WILD BAND by KARL THEODORE KORNER FREEDOM by MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED SCHENKENDORF THE MOTHER TONGUE by MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED SCHENKENDORF FREEDOM by MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED SCHENKENDORF THE MOTHER TONGUE by MAXIMILIAN GOTTFRIED SCHENKENDORF FRANCIS II, KING OF NAPLES; SONNET by AMY LOWELL ON A CERTAIN CRITIC by AMY LOWELL AN ODE TO THE FRAMERS OF THE FRAME BILL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |
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