Travels in the Harz Mountains - Part 2

At the lonely casement tapping
Comes the fir with fingers green,
And the moon, the silent watcher,
Casts within its golden sheen.

Father, mother, both are sleeping,
Hark the sound their breathings make!
But we two with blissful chatter
Keep each other wide awake.

“It is hard to think thou prayest
Often, as thou dost declare;
When I see thy lips twitch coldly,
Surely that comes not from prayer?

“Ever that cold, scornful twitching
Makes me tremble with dismay;
But thy quiet gentle glances
Chase my gloomy fears away.

“Yet I doubt if thou believest
What as faith we cherish most;
Hast thou faith in God the Father,
In the Son and Holy Ghost?”

Child, when as a little fellow
At my mother's knee I stood,
I believed in God the Father,
All controlling, great and good;

Who this beauteous earth created
And the wondrous human race;
Who to suns and moons and planets
Pre-ordained their course and place.

And, my child, as I grew bigger,
More I understood anon;
Understood and grew in reason,
And believed then in the Son.

The Beloved, whose revelation
To God's love did testify;
Who received the wonted guerdon,
Whom the mob did crucify.

But when I had grown to manhood,
Much had read and travelled too,
Heartfelt faith from heart o'erflowing,
In the Holy Spirit grew—

He, who did the greatest marvels—
Greater marvels still doth he,
For he broke the tyrant's stronghold
And he set the bondsman free.

He makes whole the ancient death-wounds,
He renews the ancient Right;
All the race of men, born equals,
Are as nobles in his sight.

From the brain he clears the cobwebs,
Drives the evil clouds away,
Which embitter love and gladness,
Which bemock us night and day.

He hath chosen full a thousand
Valiant knights in helm and mail,
Has inspired their souls with courage
That his purpose may prevail.

And their trusty swords are flashing
And their goodly banners wave!
Ah, my child, 'twould surely please thee
But to look on knights so brave?

Well, then, look on me and kiss me,
Look, my child, without affright,
I am of this chosen order,
Am the Holy Spirit's knight.
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Author of original: 
Heinrich Heine
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