For Travellers on the Voyage.
On the Voyage.


In die Segel fanst und linde

[235]de la Motte Fouqué.

On our sails all soft and sweetly,

Yet with bold resistless force,

Breathe the winds of heaven, and fleetly

Wing us on our watery course;

Swift, and swifter, furrowing deep

Through the mighty waves, that keep

Not a trace where we have been,

On we speed to lands unseen!

Sink thou deeply in our mind,

Type of life, most apt and true!

Though we leave no track behind,

Yet we plough our furrows too,

Where, from out a world of bliss,

Falls the seed unseen of this,

And an unseen distant home

Beckons o'er the desert foam.

Be our voyage, brethren, such

That if direst peril came,

Wreck and ruin could not touch

Ought but this our weary frame;

That may gladly sleep, the while

Still and blest the soul shall smile,

In the eternal peace of Heaven,

That our God hath surely given.

Oh that in that blessed peace

Many and many a soul may rest!

Oh through us may God increase

Soon the number of the blest!

Free through us the souls that now

'Neath a bitter bondage bow;

Whom yet darkest error binds!

Speed, oh speed us on, ye winds!

for travellers the parting
Top of Page
Top of Page