Mignon's Song

O! DOST thou know the clime where citron fruits are blooming fair?
The gold-hued orange burns amid the dusky greenery there;
From skies of speckless blue are wafted airlets warm and soft;
There sleepy myrtles grow; there trees of laurel stand aloft.

That bright land dost thou know?
Thither with thee, my love, I long to go.

And dost thou know the Pile, with roof on colonnades reclining?
The broad saloon is bright; the chambers there are darkly shining,
And alabaster forms look down upon me pityingly —
"Alas, unhappy child! what ill the world has done to thee!"

That dwelling dost thou know?

Thither, protector mine, with thee I'll go.

Knowest thou the mountain's brow? Its pathway clouds and shadows cover:
Amid the darkling mist the mule pursues his blind way over.

The dragon and his brood lurk in its thousand cavern-hollows;
The rent rock topples down; the headlong sweep of waters follows.

That mountain dost thou know?
Thither our way lies. Father! let us go.