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FRAGMENTS FROM GOETHE.
V.
Hark! in the trembling leaves,
Mysterious whispers: hark! a rushing sound,
Sweeps through yon twilight depth! e'en now they come,
They throng to greet their guest! and who are they!
Rejoicing each with each in stately joy,
As a King's children gathered for the hour
Of some high festival! exultingly,
And kindred-like and God-like, on they pass,
The glorious wandering shapes! aged and young
Proud men and royal women! Lo my race,
My sire's ancestral race!
