Scenes of heav'nly rapture past,
They went out by another gate,O'er plains and fields proceeding straight,No house or tree was near the spot,The sun was bright, the day was hot;In short, the weather being such,A draught of water was worth much.The Lord walk'd on before them all,And let, unseen, a cherry fall.St. Peter rush'd to seize it hold,As though an apple 'twere of gold;His palate much approv'd the berry;The Lord ere long another cherryOnce more let fall upon the plain;St. Peter forthwith stoop'd again.The Lord kept making him thus bendTo pick up cherries without end.For a long time the thing went on;The Lord then said, in cheerful tone:"Had'st thou but moved when thou wert bid,Thou of this trouble had'st been rid;The man who small things scorns, will next,By things still smaller be perplex'd."
In silence unbroken and deep,The glowing sun then look'd upwards,
Fled on every side away;Each on some far-distant trace,
And long-standing debts allege.
Round thy beautiful form; thousand times kiss'd I thy neck.On my shoulder sank thy head; thy fair arms, encircling,
When at length the sun, in hated splendour.Fell upon my walls, upon my windows,Up I sprang, and hasten'd to the garden,There to blend my breath, so hot and yearning,With the cool refreshing morning breezes,And, it might be, even there to meet thee:But I cannot find thee in the arbour,Or the avenue of lofty lindens.
The children they hear with delight.