The Statue Over The Cathedral Door

from The German Of Julius Mosen

Forms of saints and kings are standing The cathedral door above; Yet I saw but one among them Who hath soothed my soul with love. In his mantle,--wound about him, As their robes the sowers wind,-- Bore he swallows and their fledglings, Flowers and weeds of every kind. And so stands he calm and childlike, High in wind and tempest wild; O, were I like him exalted, I would be like him, a child! And my songs,--green leaves and blossoms,-- To the doors of heaven would hear, Calling even in storm and tempest, Round me still these birds of air.