In thought forever roam I shall

Around Trimountain mine:

By meadows, river, by its hills,

By garden, linden nigh the house.

Thus when darkens day the clear,

Alone from depths of grave,

Spirit home-longing

Into the native hall flies

To espy the loved ones with tender glance.

1825.

INSANITY.

GOD grant I grow not insane:

No, better the stick and beggar's bag;

No, better toil and hunger bear.

Not that I upon my reason

Such value place; not that I

Would fain not lose it.

If freedom to me they would leave

How I would lasciviously

For the gloomy forest rush!

In hot delirium I would sing

And unconscious would remain

With ravings wondrous and chaotic.

And listen would I to the waves

And gaze I would full of bliss

Into the empty heavens.

And free and strong then would I be

Like a storm the fields updigging,

Forest-trees uprooting.

But here's the trouble: if crazy once,

A fright thou art like pestilence,

And locked up now shalt thou be.

To a chain thee, fool, they'll fasten

And through the gate, a circus beast,

Thee to nettle the people come.