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FRIEDERICH WERNER
The Templars in Cyprus
page 18
•C. t.] Till TI MI-LA M IK CYt-KTS.
Wh'-nco fish ou all these maxim* ? in the wood*
For over rut-in/, yet you often talk
More wisuly than that legend-worm, tho Chaplain.
RoaiKT
TIIOM' thin/-, my friend, we hunt not out in wood*
Wo *nrely shall in legend* never find.
'1 ho -|. irk of human reason glows a* bright
In forests, growing with tho cedar'* growth,
As it i* dulled within the lutrrow evil.
Hut your reminder of tho sylvan jo_\s
Come* in good time. Farewell !
GOITFKUD.
Saw you not yet
The Master ? Sleeps he oat tho past day'* trouble ? ROBERT.
He sleep '—Was ever such a stormy day As could tire out tho old man ? E'en ns I Was starting out at three o'clock, ho trod That mountain-path already, which to climb lit fore tho sun-riso daily is his wont.
GOTTfRUD.
A quaint old grey-beard ! Kver wise and staid As tits his Mastcrhood—yet, when his heart Is stirred to effervescence, forth ho goes At full burst over every obstacle.
ROBERT.
Poor heart, magnanimous, inscrutable !
GOTTFRIED.
There on tho mountain, so the old folks say, Ho with his tutelary spirit holds, Kach morning, converse ; many indeed pretend That, after heathen fashion—God be with us ! Ho doth the sun adore.
RORERT.
Knight-LSrothcr, say,
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