Category Archives: Johann Gaudenz Freiherr von Salis-seewis

J.G. Salis-Seewis: “Morning”

“Specimens of the Choicest Lyrical Productions of the Most Celebrated German Poets from Klopstock to the Present Time.”  Translator:  Mary Anne Burt.  1856.




Nature is veiled in twilight’s mystic dyes;
As lamp within a temple, thus doth glow
Yon morning star:  the beech-tree’s branches rise,
As from a vapourous cupola below.
Sol’s ray illumes the rocky turrets nigh,
Resembling roses that on ruins lie.
For whom are offerings of the dew-gemmed fields?
Perfumes that high, toward silvery vapour rove!
Incense are ye, luxuriant Nature yields
To God, from treasures fair, in wood and grove.
Heaven is God’s altar:  Morning-star divine!
Thou’rt but a spark from that celestial shrine.
In Morning’s blush that casts a roseate light
O’er oceans, and o’er glaciers’ icy walls,
That lustre of God’s throne which fades from sight,
Cheers man, and brightly on the grave-stone falls;
It hallows pious hope, and through Death’s gloom,
Eternity’s clear sun-beams pierce the tomb.
We pilgrims rove beneath the matin-ray
Of Immortality, our polar-star.
The time when Innocence goes not astray.
Dawneth beyond the tomb, and is not far.
Redeemer, and Almighty God — thy light
Dispels Death’s gloom, and Error’s shades of night.

Salis-Seewis: “Into the Silent Land!”

By Johann Gaudenz Freiherr von Salis-Seewis (1762-1834). Set by Franz Peter Schubert (1797-1828), “Ins stille Land,” D. 403 (1816), published 1845. Translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882), “Song of the Silent Land”, from Hyperion, published 1839.


Into the Silent Land!
Ah! who shall lead us thither?
Clouds in the evening sky more darkly gather,
And shattered wrecks lie thicker on the strand.
Who leads us with a gentle hand
Thither, oh, thither,
Into the Silent Land?

Into the Silent Land!
To you, ye boundless regions
Of all perfection! Tender morning-visions
Of beauteous souls! The Future's pledge and band!
Who in Life's battle firm doth stand,
Shall bear Hope's tender blossoms
Into the Silent Land!

O Land! O Land!
For all the broken-hearted
The mildest herald by our fate allotted,
Beckons, and with inverted torch doth stand
To lead us with a gentle hand
Into the Silent Land!