Calcutta nr. 509
O would that there were a place of repose
Or that we might come to the end of the road
Would that from the heart of earth after a hundred thousand years
We might all hope to blossom again like the verdure
Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd,
To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field!
Oh ! would that there were a place of repose,
Or that we might come to the end of the road;
Would that from the heart of earth, after a hundred thousand years,
We might all hope to blossom again like the verdure.
Oh! plût à Dieu qu'il existât un lieu de repose, que le chemin que nous suivons y pût aboutir! Plût à Dieu qu'après cent mille ans nous pussions concevoir l'espérance de renaître du cœur de la terre, comme renaît le vert gazon!
Ah would that a restplace from striving there were!
That a way at Thy door of arriving there were!
Would that, after long ages, for us from Earth's breast
A hope, like the grass, of reviving there were!
Ah, would there were a place to rest from pain
Or that the way we might at last attain
After ten myriad years and from earth's heart
Like new blown verdure might revive again!