Third Ode.

Be void of feeling!     A heart that soon is stirr'd,     Is a possession sad     Upon this changing earth.     Behrisch, let spring's sweet smile     Never gladden thy brow!     Then winter's gloomy tempests     Never will shadow it o'er.     Lean thyself ne'er on a maiden's     Sorrow-engendering breast.     Ne'er on the arm,     Misery-fraught, of a friend.     Already envy     From out his rocky ambush     Upon thee turns     The force of his lynx-like eyes,     Stretches his talons,     On thee falls,     In thy shoulders     Cunningly plants them.     Strong are his skinny arms,     As panther-claws;     He shaketh thee,     And rends thy frame.     Death 'tis to part,     'Tis threefold death     To part, not hoping     Ever to meet again.     Thou wouldst rejoice to leave     This hated land behind,     Wert thou not chain'd to me     With friendships flowery chains.     Burst them! I'll not repine.     No noble friend     Would stay his fellow-captive,     If means of flight appear.     The remembrance     Of his dear friend's freedom     Gives him freedom     In his dungeon.     Thou go'st, I'm left.     But e'en already     The last year's winged spokes     Whirl round the smoking axle.     I number the turns     Of the thundering wheel;     The last one I bless.     Each bar then is broken, I'm free then as thou!