Page 90 of 91 CHAPTER IX. WHAT IS NOBLE? - Beyond Good and Evil

Ye, my old friends! Look! Ye turn pale, filled o'er
With love and fear!
Go! Yet not in wrath. Ye could ne'er live here.
Here in the farthest realm of ice and scaur,
A huntsman must one be, like chamois soar.

8.

An evil huntsman was I? See how taut

My bow was bent!
Strongest was he by whom such bolt were sent--
Woe now! That arrow is with peril fraught,
Perilous as none.--Have yon safe home ye sought!

9.

Ye go! Thou didst endure enough, oh, heart;--

Strong was thy hope;
Unto new friends thy portals widely ope,
Let old ones be. Bid memory depart!
Wast thou young then, now--better young thou art!

10.

What linked us once together, one hope's tie--

(Who now doth con
Those lines, now fading, Love once wrote thereon?)-- Is like a parchment, which the hand is shy
To touch--like crackling leaves, all seared, all dry.

11.

Oh! Friends no more! They are--what name for those?--
Friends' phantom-flight
Knocking at my heart's window-pane at night,
Gazing on me, that speaks "We were" and goes,--
Oh, withered words, once fragrant as the rose!

12.

Pinings of youth that might not understand!

For which I pined,
Which I deemed changed with me, kin of my kind:
But they grew old, and thus were doomed and banned: None but new kith are native of my land!

13.

Midday of life! My second youth's delight!

My summer's park!
Unrestful joy to long, to lurk, to hark!
I peer for friends!--am ready day and night,
For my new friends. Come! Come! The time is right!

14.

This song is done,--the sweet sad cry of rue

Sang out its end;
A wizard wrought it, he the timely friend,
The midday-friend,--no, do not ask me who;
At midday 'twas, when one became as two.

15.

We keep our Feast of Feasts, sure of our bourne,
Our aims self-same:
The Guest of Guests, friend Zarathustra, came!
The world now laughs, the grisly veil was torn,
And Light and Dark were one that wedding-morn.

***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK Beyond Good and Evil***

		I would believe only in a God that knows how to Dance. Friedrich Nietzsche