To Father*Kronos.

Hasten thee, Kronos!     On with clattering trot     Downhill goeth thy path;     Loathsome dizziness ever,     When thou delayest, assails me.     Quick, rattle along,     Over stock and stone let thy trot     Into life straightway lead     Now once more     Up the toilsome ascent     Hasten, panting for breath!     Up, then, nor idle be,     Striving and hoping, up, up!     Wide, high, glorious the view     Gazing round upon life,     While from mount unto mount     Hovers the spirit eterne,     Life eternal foreboding.     Sideways a roof's pleasant shade     Attracts thee,     And a look that promises coolness     On the maidenly threshold.     There refresh thee! And, maiden,     Give me this foaming draught also,     Give me this health-laden look!     Down, now! quicker still, down!     See where the sun sets     Ere he sets, ere old age     Seizeth me in the morass,     Ere my toothless jaws mumble,     And my useless limbs totter;     While drunk with his farewell beam     Hurl me, a fiery sea     Foaming still in mine eye,     Hurl me, while dazzled and reeling,     Down to the gloomy portal of hell.     Blow, then, gossip, thy horn,     Speed on with echoing trot,     So that Orcus may know we are coming;     So that our host may with joy     Wait at the door to receive us.