Ralph Waldo Emerson, comp. (1803–1882). Parnassus: An Anthology of Poetry. 1880.
Song of the ParcæJohann Wolfgang von Goethe (17491832)
Forgotten was it, and forgotten gladly,—
Song of the Parcæ, which they shuddering sang,
When Tantalus fell from his golden seat.
They suffered with their noble friend; indignant
Their bosom was, and terrible their song.
To me and to my sisters, in our youth,
The nurse would sing it; and I marked it well.
Ye children of men!
They hold the dominion
In hands everlasting,
All free to exert it
As listeth their will.
Whome’er they’ve exalted!
On crags and on cloud-piles
The couches are planted
Around the gold tables.
Then tumble the feasters,
Reviled and dishonored,
In gulfs of deep midnight;
And look ever vainly
In fetters of darkness
For judgment that’s just.
At feasts never failing
Around the gold tables.
They stride at a footstep
From mountain to mountain;
Through jaws of abysses
Steams towards them the breathing
Of suffocate Titans,
Like offerings of incense,
A light-rising vapor.
From whole generations
The eye of their blessing;
Nor will in the children,
The once well-beloved,
Still eloquent features
Of ancestor see.”
The old exile heareth
That terrible music
In caverns of darkness,—
Remembereth his children,
And shaketh his head.