HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

i^eine. 27
ANNO 1829.
I crave an ampler, worthier sphere:
I'd liefer bleed at every vein
Than stifle 'mid these hucksters here,
These lying slaves of paltry gain.
They eat, they drink; they're every
whit
As happy as their type, the mole ;
Large are their bounties — as the slit
Through which they drop the poor
man's dole.
With pipe in mouth they go their way,
With hands in pockets; they are blest
With grand digestions : only they
Are such hard morsels to digest!
The hand that's red with some dark
deed.
Some giant crime, were white as wool
Compared with these sleek saints,
whose creed
Is paying all their debts in full.
Ye clouds that sail to far-off lands,
0 waft me to what clime ye will!
To Lapland's snows, to Lybia's sands,
To the world's end — but onward
still!
Take me, 0 clouds! They ne'er look
down;
But (proof of a discerning mind)
One moment hang o'er Hamburg town.
The next they leave it leagues behind.