Excerpt from The Queen of Orplede
My resolution not to write a preface is broken herewith, for a sufficient cause, let me hope. The title of this volume, though it came so spontaneously as to preclude another choice, may be obscure to some readers. The idea was derived from a poem by Edouard Môrike entitled "Gesang Weyla's", or Weyla's Song. Weyla is an impersonation of the poet, and his lines may be rendered in English some what as follows:
Thou art Orplede, my land,
The mists float upward from thy sun-bright strand
To where the faces of the gods are beaming.
Primeval rivers spring renewed,
Thy silver girdle weaving, child.
Before thy godhead bend subdued
Kings, thy worshippers and watchers mild.
This song, especially in its musical setting by Hugo Wolf, is very widely known in Germany, but unfortunately Môrike, though second only to Goethe in lyrical range and felicity, is hardly even a name to English readers.
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