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A poem by Frederich Schiller |
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Nadowessian Death-Lament |
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Title: Nadowessian Death-Lament Author: Frederich Schiller [More Titles by Schiller] See, he sitteth on his mat Where is now the sturdy gripe,-- Where the bright and falcon eye, Where the limbs that used to dart Where the arm that sturdily Happy he!--He now has gone Where with birds each bush is filled, With the spirits blest he feeds,-- Farewell-gifts, then, hither bring, 'Neath his head the hatchet hide And the knife, well sharpened, And to paint his body, place [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |