which is in strange
contrast to the tumultuous outpouring of the _Wanderers Sturmlied_,
and which might induce us to assign its production to a later day in
Goethe's life, to the period of his sojourn in Italy, when years had
somewhat chastened him, and when he was under the spell of the
artistic remains of classical antiquity. Of the finest inspiration is
the contrast between the remarks of the peasant woman wholly engrossed
in the immediate needs of the day, and the speculations of the
Wanderer as he comes upon the ruins that time has wrought upon the
choicest works of man's hand. Here we are far from all vapid and
artificial sentiment; we have philosophical meditation proceeding from
the profoundest source of the pathos of human life, the transitoriness
of man and his works. Completely in accord with the philosophy of his
ripest years, however, the poet finds no ground for melancholy regrets
in the spectacle of nature triumphing over man's handiwork. Even in
her work of corrosion she provides for the welfare of her children; in
a home reared out of a ruined temple happy human lives are spent. And
it is in the spirit of the broadest humanity--a spirit that marks him
off from the sentimentalists of the Darmstadt circle--that he regards
the "ruins of time."

[Footnote 114: On account of his constant travels between Frankfort
and Darmstadt, Goethe was known among his friends as the _Wanderer_.
The poem was written in the autumn, during Goethe's residence in
Wetzlar.]

Natur! du ewig keimende,
Schaffst jeden zum Genuss des Lebens,
Hast deine Kinder alle muetterlich
Mit Erbteil ausgestattet, einer Huette.

Nature! eternal engenderer,
Thou bring'st forth thy children for the joy of living,
With care all maternal thou providest
Each with his portion, with his cottage.

In reading this poem we feel the force of the words of the younger
Schlosser in which he records his impression of Goethe at the moment
when both first made the acquaintance of the Darmstadt society. "I
shall be accompanied (to Darmstadt)," he wrote, "by a young friend of
the highest promise who, through his strenuous endeavours to purify
his soul, without unnerving it, is to me worthy of special
honour."[115] The purification had indeed begun, but Goethe had to
pass through many fires before the purification was complete. One such
fire was immediately awaiting him.

[Footnote 115: Biedermann, _op. cit._ i. 19-2