Part 41

Off with those who spoil earth's gladness, Blow away all clouds of sadness, Till our heaven clear we see; Let me hold thy hand, best fellow, Till my joy like tempest bellow! Freest thou of spirits free!

When thou partest, take a token Of the joy thou hast awoken, Take our wreath and fling it far; Toss it up and catch it never, Whirl it on before thee ever, Till it reach the farthest star.

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Footnote 15:

This poem is a parody of the "Chorus Mysticus" which concludes the second part of Goethe's "Faust." Bayard Taylor's translation of the passage in "Faust" runs as follows:—

"All things transitory But as symbols are sent, Earth's insufficiency Here grows to Event: The Indescribable Here it is done: The Woman-Soul leadeth us Upward and on!"

Footnote 16:

Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of the Nation, in which it appeared on April 17, 1909.

Footnote 17:

Translated by Miss M. D. Petre. Inserted by permission of the editor of the Nation, in which it appeared on May 15, 1909.

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FOOTNOTES:

Transcriber's Note

The original spelling and punctuation has been retained.

Variations in hyphenation and compound words have been preserved.

Italicized words and phrases in the text version are presented by surrounding the text with underscores.