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Updated: June 3, 2025
Kufferath quotes unfortunately without giving a reference a Minnelied of Gottfried, which is obviously reproduced in the second act, where the lovers keep harping upon the words "mein und dein." Many references which are obscure in Wagner are explained in Gottfried's epic, such as the circumstances of Tristan's first visit to Isolde in Ireland, with the splinter in Morold's skull.
"Freude, schöner Götterfunken, Tochter aus Elysium, Wir betreten feuertrunken, Himmlische, dein Heiligthum, Deine Zauber binden wieder, Was die Mode streng getheilt; Alle Menschen werden Bruder, Wo dein sanfter Flügel weilt."
I was now generally recognised, and called Rarik, because, according to the custom prevailing here, I had sealed my friendship with that chief by an exchange of names. They also recognised Dr. Eschscholz, who had been of my former expedition, and heartily rejoiced in seeing again their beloved "Dein Name."
Longfellow, on passing our house, told aunty that he was coming in the afternoon, to speak to me; aunty was worried and so was I, but when he came I happened to be singing Schubert's "Dein ist mein Herz," one of aunty's songs, and he said, "Go on. Please don't stop."
Taking leave of his friend for this life, he spoke of the journey ahead to his true fatherland, repeating the words of the hymn: "Ich hab' vor mir ein' schwere Reis' Zu dir in's Himmels Paradeis, Das ist mein rechtes Vaterland, Darauf du hast dein Blut gewandt."
So ain for aisne, nequire for non quire, malle for magis velle, nolle for son velle. And again, we often say dein for deinde, and exin for exinde. Well, need I give any more instances?
Dein /Wohl/ is unser /Stolz/, dein /Leiden/, unser /Schmerz/, /Und/ Hendel's /Tempel ist der Musensoehne Herz/." These have no remarkable effect in English, as to us the words of Latin origin are often as familiar as those which have Teutonic roots; and these form the chief peculiarity of the style.
Glaenzt deine /Urn/ dereinst in majestaets'chen /Pompe/, Dann weint der /Patriot/ an deinem /Katacombe/. Doch leb! dein /Torus/ sey von edler Brut ein /Nest/, Steh' hoch wie der /Olymp/, wie der /Parnassus/ fest! Kein /Phalanx/ Griechenland mit roemischen /Ballisten/ Vermoeg /Germanien/ und Hendel zu verwuesten.
It is inconceivable that the lyric will not grow still more significant with time, freighted more and more deeply with thought and passion and touched with a richer and more magical beauty. Some appreciation of it, no matter how inadequate, should be a part of the spiritual possessions of every civilized man. "Die Geisterwelt ist nicht verschlossen; Dein Sinn ist zu, dein Herz ist todt!
I propose a sentiment. Pledging the assembled company in this beaker of rich wine . Let go that bottle, Ferguson, or I'll have your life! that's my beaker, I tell you! There! now you've upset it. Attendez seulement bis ich dein tete abhaue!" "Take the butter-dish," said Bell. "That will do just as well."
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