POEMS OF GOETHE
355
The rulers immortal
Avert from whole peoples
Their blessing-fraught glances,
And shun, in the children,
To trace the once cherished,
Still eloquent features
Their ancestors wore.
Thus chanted the Parcæ;
The old man, the banished,
In gloomy vault lying.
Their song overheareth,
Sons, grandsons rememb'reth,
And shaketh his head.
