_Another citizen_. Sundays and holidays, I like, of all things, a good prattle Of war and fighting, and the whole array, When back in Turkey, far away, The peoples give each other battle. One stands before the window, drinks his glass, And sees the ships with flags glide slowly down the river; Comes home at night, when out of sight they pass, And sings with joy, "Oh, peace forever!"
_Third citizen_. So I say, neighbor! let them have their way, Crack skulls and in their crazy riot Turn all things upside down they may, But leave us here in peace and quiet.
_Old Woman_ [_to the citizen's daughter_]. Heyday, brave prinking this! the fine young blood! Who is not smitten that has met you?-- But not so proud! All very good! And what you want I'll promise soon to get you.
_Citizen's Daughter_. Come, Agatha! I dread in public sight To prattle with such hags; don't stay, O, Luddy! 'Tis true she showed me, on St. Andrew's night, My future sweetheart in the body.
_The other_. She showed me mine, too, in a glass, Right soldierlike, with daring comrades round him. I look all round, I study all that pass, But to this hour I have not found him.
_Soldiers_. Castles with lowering Bulwarks and towers, Maidens with towering Passions and powers, Both shall be ours! Daring the venture, Glorious the pay!
When the brass trumpet Summons us loudly, Joy-ward or death-ward, On we march proudly. That is a storming!
Life in its splendor! Castles and maidens Both must surrender. Daring the venture, Glorious the pay. There go the soldiers Marching away!
_Faust_. Spring's warm look has unfettered the fountains, Brooks go tinkling with silvery feet; Hope's bright blossoms the valley greet; Weakly and sickly up the rough mountains Pale old Winter has made his retreat. Thence he launches, in sheer despite, Sleet and hail in impotent showers, O'er the green lawn as he takes his flight; But the sun will suffer no white, Everywhere waking the formative powers, Living colors he yearns to spread; Yet, as he finds it too early for flowers, Gayly dressed people he takes instead. Look from this height whereon we find us Back to the town we have left behind us, Where from the dark and narrow door Forth a motley multitude pour. They sun themselves gladly and all are gay, They celebrate Christ's resurrection to-day. For have not they themselves arisen? From smoky huts and hovels and stables, From labor's bonds and traffic's prison, From the confinement of roofs and gables, From many a cramping street and alley, From churches full of the old world's night, All have come out to the day's broad light. See, only see! how the masses sally Streaming and swarming through gardens and fields How the broad stream that bathes the valley Is everywhere cut with pleasure boats' keels, And that last skiff, so heavily laden, Almost to sinking, puts off in the stream; Ribbons and jewels of youngster and maiden From the far paths of the mountain gleam. How it hums o'er the fields and clangs from the steeple! This is the real heaven of the people, Both great and little are merry and gay, I am a man, too, I can be, to-day.