Whether bold or modest thou.
"But the heavens soon clouded became. For the sake of the mast'ryStrove a contemptible crew, unfit to accomplish good actions.Then they murder'd each other, and took to oppressing their new-foundNeighbours and brothers, and sent on missions whole herds of self膕eekersAnd the superiors took to carousing and robbing by wholesale,And the inferiors down to the lowest caroused and robb'd also.Nobody thought of aught else than having enough for tomorrow.Terrible was the distress, and daily increased the oppression.None the cry understood, that they of the day were the masters.Then even temperate minds were attack'd by sorrow and fury;Each one reflected, and swore to avenge all the injuries suffer'd,And to atone for the hitter loss of hopes twice defrauded.Presently Fortune declared herself on the side of the Germans,And the French were compell'd to retreat by forced marches before them.Ah! the sad fate of the war we then for the first time experienced.For the victor is kind and humane, at least he appears so,And he spares the man he has vanquish'd, as if he his own were,When he employs him daily, and with his property helps him.But the fugitive knows no law; he wards off death only,And both quickly and recklessly all that he meets with, consumes he.Then his mind becomes heated apace; and soon desperationFills his heart, and impels him to all kinds of criminal actions.Nothing then holds he respected, he steals It. With furious longingOn the woman he rushes; his lust becomes awful to think of.Death all around him he sees, his last minutes in cruelty spends he,Wildly exulting in blood, and exulting in howls and in anguish.
Thereupon he traced, with pointed finger,And with anxious care, upon the forest,At the utmost verge, where the strong sunbeamsFrom the shining ground appear'd reflected,
But who stands there apart?In the thicket, lost is his path;Behind him the bushesAre closing together,The grass springs up again,The desert engulphs him.
Raven hair around his smooth brow strays,
With all its roots
That heart feels for heart,Only seems burning
Is this the vale?
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