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A poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe |
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Rinaldo |
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Title: Rinaldo Author: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [More Titles by Goethe] [This Cantata was written for Prince Frederick of Gotha, and set to music by Winter, the Prince singing the part of Rinaldo.--See the Annalen.]
To the strand! quick, mount the bark! If no favouring zephyrs blow, Ply the oar and nimbly row, O'er the sea we thus career. RINALDO.
Ye were so fair, but now that dream is o'er; My only joy is fled for evermore. Let me taste those days so sweet, Heav'n-descended, once again! Spirit true, recall those days Freeborn breath thy gentle lays Mingled are with joy and pain. Round the beds, so richly gleaming, Rises up a palace fair; As in dream thou saw'st it ne'er. And this spacious garden round, Far extend the galleries; High in air, too, bloom the trees. Wat'ry flakes and jets are falling. Sweet and silv'ry strains arise; And the nightingale replies. CHORUS. Gently come! feel no alarm, On a noble duty bent; That by magic power was lent. Fill his mind with sweet content. RINALDO. Hark! the turtle-dove is calling, And the nightingale replies; Mingling with their melodies. But all of them say: Her only we mean; As soon as she's seen,-- With graces so rife, Then lily and rose In wreaths are entwining; In dancing combining, Its brother is greeting, All flying and meeting, When waken'd to life. CHORUS. No! no longer may we wait; RINALDO. Woe! what form is here reveal'd! CHORUS. 'Twill disclose the cheat to thee. RINALDO. Am I doom'd myself to see CHORUS. Courage take, and all is o'er. RINALDO. Be it so! I'll take fresh heart, CHORUS. Yes, 'tis well! no more remain. SEMI-CHORUS. Away then! let's fly O'er the zephyr-kiss'd ocean! Sees armies in motion, O'er the dust-sprinkled course. CHORUS. From his forefathers brave Draws the hero new force. RINALDO. With sorrow laden, Within this valley's All-silent alleys Again I see. Twice can this be? CHORUS. Unworthy chains? RINALDO. And now I've see her, Alas! how changed! And looks estranged, CHORUS. Yes, fade away! SEMI-CHORUS. Already are heard The prayers of the pious. Why longer deny us? Forbids all delay. CHORUS. Away, then! away! RINALDO. With heart sadly stirr'd, Your command I receive; Ye force me to leave. Oh, wherefore not stay? CHORUS. Away, then! away! 1811. -THE END- GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |