Joy, in nature’s wide dominion, Mightiest cause of all is found; And ’tis joy that moves the pinion, When the wheel of time goes round. Joy from truth’s own glass of fire Sweetly on the searcher smiles; Lest on virtue’s steeps he tire, Joy the tedious path beguiles. High on faith’s bright hill before us, See her banner proudly wave! Joy, too, swells the angels’ chorus,– Bursts the bondage of the grave!
Friedrich Schiller











