This last cup I pledge to thee!--By mine ashes if she pass,
Mingled are with joy and pain.
Then she left the apartment, and after her son hasten'd quickly,Hoping somewhere to find him, and with her words of affectionGladden his heart, for he, the excellent son, well deserved it.Smilingly, when she had closed the door, continued the father"What a wonderful race of people are women and children.All of them fain would do whatever pleases their fancy,And we're only alow'd to praise them and flatter them freely.Once for all there's truth in the ancient proverb which tells us:He who moves not forward, goes backward! a capital saying!"
But they, by Orcus's night, sternly, alas! are held down.Therefore rejoice, oh thou living one, blest in thy love-lighted homestead,
And then at length deserted.
When, lo! a fearful midnight sound I hear,
With that olden, blissful tone,So la, la! &c.
Tones of joy and sadness,
I haste, and trample down the shrubs amain;The trees make way, the bushes all retreat,And so--the beast is lying at her feet.
The one his pleasures around him strews,