cakes in the kitchen-gardens (Kohlgärten), it all at once struck me to put together these words of might and power, in a poem on the cake-baker Hendel. No sooner thought than done! And let it stand here too, as it was written on the wall of the house with a lead-pencil.
"O Hendel, dessen Ruhm vom Süd zum Norden reicht,
Vernimm den Päan der zu deinen Ohren steigt.
Du backst was Gallien und Britten emsig suchen,
Mit schöpfrischen Genie, originelle Kuchen.
Des Kaffee's Ocean, der sich vor dir ergiesst,
Ist süsser als der Saft der vom Hymettus fliesst.
Dein Haus ein Monument, wie wir den Künsten lohnen
Umhangen mit Trophän, erzählt den Nationen:
Auch ohne Diadem fand Hendel hier sein Glück
Und raubte dem Cothurn gar manch Achtgroschenstück.
Glänzt deine Urn dereinst in majestäts'chen Pompe,
Dann weint der Patriot an deinem Katacombe.
Doch leb! dein Torus sey von edler Brut ein Nest,
Steh' hoch wie der Olymp, wie der Parnassus fest!
Kein Phalanx Griechenland mit römischen Ballisten
Vermog Germanien und Hendel zu verwüsten.
Dein Wohl is unser Stolz, dein Leiden unser Schmerz,
Und Hendel's Tempel ist der Musensöhne Herz."[1]
- ↑ The humour of the above consists, not in the thoughts, but in the particular words employed. These have no remarkable effect in English, as to us the words of Latin origin are often as familiar as those which have Teutonic roots; and these form the chief peculiarity of the style. We have therefore given the poem in the original language, with the peculiar words (as indicated by Goethe) in italics, and subjoined a literal translation. It will be observed that we have said that the peculiarity consists chiefly, not solely, in the use of the foreign words; for there are two or three instances of unquestionably German words, which are italicised on account of their high-sounding pomp.
"Hendel, whose fame extends from south to north, hear the pæan which ascends to thine ears! Thou bakest that which Gauls and Britons industriously seek, (thou bakest) with creative genius original cakes. The ocean of coffee which pours itself out before thee is sweeter than the juice which flows from Hymettus. Thy house, a monument, how we reward the arts, hung round with trophies, tells the nations: 'Even without a diadem, Hendel formed his fortune here, and robbed the Cothurnus of many an eight-groschen-piece.' When thy urn shines hereafter in majestic pomp, then will the patriot weep at thy catacomb. But live! let thy bed (torus) be the nest of a noble brood, stand high as Olympus, and firm as Parnassus. May no phalanx of Greece with Roman ballistæ, be able to destroy Germania and Hendel. Thy weal is our pride, thy woe our pain, and Hendel's temple is the heart of the sons of the Muses."—Trans.
