Jesus Christ. This latter now I wish
To sing, like Hercules or the island which
Was held and saved, refreshing
The neighbouring one with cool sea waves drawn
From ocean's desert, the vast, Peleus. But that's
Impossible. Differently it is a fate. More marvellous.
More rich to sing. Immeasurable
The fable ever since. And now
I wish to sing the journey of the nobles to
Jerusalem, and anguish wandering at Canossa,
And Heinrich himself. If only
My very courage does not expose me. This first we
Must understand. For like morning air are the names
Since Christ. Become dreams. Fall on the heart
Like error, and killing, if one does not
Consider what they are and understand.
But the attentive man saw
The face of God,
At that time, when over the mystery of the vine
They sat together, at the hour of the communal meal,
And in his great soul, carefully choosing, the Lord
Pronounced death, and the ultimate love, for never
He could find words enough
To say about kindness, then, and to affirm the affirmative. But his light
was
Death. For niggardly is the wrath of the world.
Yet this he recognized. All is good. Thereupon he died.
But nevertheless, bowed down, the friends at the very last
Before God saw the denier's presence, as when
A century bends, thoughtfully, in
The joy of truth,
Yet they were sad, now that the evening had come. For to
Be pure is a skill, a life that has a heart, in
The presence of such a face, and outlasts the middle,
But much is to be avoided. Too much
Of love, though, where there is idolatry,
Is dangerous, strikes home most. But those men were loath
To part from the face of the Lord
And from their homeland. Inborn
Like fire in iron was this, and beside them
Walked, like a plague, the loved one's shadow.
Therefore he sent them
The Spirit, and mightily trembled
The house and God's thunder-storms rolled
Distantly rumbling, creating men, as when dragon's teeth, of glorious fate....
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