But friend, we come too late. It's true that the gods live, But up over our heads, up in a different world. They function endlessly up there, and see… - Friedrich Hölderlin

Eagles live in the darkness,
And the sons of the Alps
Cross over the abyss without fear
On lightly-built bridges.
***
Growing weak on the separate mountains — Then give us calm waters;
Give us wings, and loyal minds
To cross over and return.

It was not delight, not wonder that arose among us, it was the peace of heaven. A thousand times have I said it to her and to myself: the most beautiful is also the most sacred. And such was everything in her. Like her singing, even so was her life.

Delay thou not to break the chosen vessel,
for else it may some baser usage serve,
What should be God’s, becoming only man’s.
‘Tis better they should die, these fortunates,
Before (to trifles, shames and weaknesses a prey)
They perish ignominiously. ‘Tis better, far,
For the free man to choose his time for death,
A loving sacrifice to the high gods