More bad Wagner poetry

Farewell, Great Spirit! Thou by whom alone,
Of all the Wonder-doers sent to be
My signs and sureties Time-ward, unto me
My inmost self has ceased to be unknown!
Others have been as glasses where was shown
The fashion of my face, or where to scan
The secrets of my utmost offspring—Man—
And learn to what his worth or shame had grown.
The worship of their names has filled the sky,
Their thunder has been heard, their lightning seen,
Yet after-suns have rolled themselves on high
And still have found me with unaltered mien;
Thou only hast so dealt with me, that I
Can be no more as if thou hadst not been.

— Alfred Forman, "The World's Farewell to Richard Wagner"

To Mr. Forman fell the task of first translating the Ring into English, or, at least, some language resembling it ("Fitly thy ravens take to their feathers," etc.). His brother was the distinguished literary forger Harry Buxton Forman.

Previously: Bad Bayreuth poetry.