THE BIRD AND THE SHIP. FROM MÜLLER. "THE rivers rush into the sea, "The clouds are passing far aud high, "I greet thee, bonny boat! Whither, or whence "Full and swollen is every sail; I have trusted all to the sounding gale, "And wilt thou, little bird, go with us? With merry companions all." "I need not and seek not company, Bonny boat, I can sing all alone; 66 For the mainmast tall too heavy am I, High over the sails, high over the mast, When thy merry companions are still, at last "Who neither may rest, nor listen may, I dart away, in the bright blue day, "Thus do I sing my weary song, Wherever the four winds blow; THE HAPPIEST LAND. -FRAGMENT OF A MODERN GERMAN BALLAD. THERE sat one day in quiet, By an alehouse on the Rhine, Four hale and hearty fellows, And drank the precious wine. The landlord's daughter filled their cups But, when the maid departed, A Swabian raised his hand, And cried, all hot and flushed with wine, "Long live the Swabian land! "The greatest kingdom upon earth Ha!" cried a Saxon, laughing,And dashed his beard with wine; "I had rather live in Lapland, Than that Swabian land of thine! THE BLACK KNIGHT. FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND. "TWAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, Of ancient Hofburgh's walls, A luxuriant Spring shall break." Drums and trumpets echo loudly, Fell all the cavaliers, Before the monarch's stalwart son. To the barrier of the fight Rode at last a sable Knight. Danced in sable iron sark, To the sumptuous banquet came With mournful mind The ancient King reclined, Gazed at them in silent thought. Pale the children both did look, "Sir Knight! your name and scut- But the guest a beaker took; cheon say!" "Should I speak it here, Ye would stand aghast with fear; I am a Prince of mighty sway!" When he rode into the lists, "Golden wine will make you whole!" The children drank, Gave many a courteous thank; The arch of heaven grew black with Each the father's breast embraces, mists, And the castle 'gan to rock. At the first blow, Fell the youth from saddle-bow, Pipe and viol call the dances, Torch-light through the bigh hall glances; Son and daughter; and their faces Looks the fear-struck father grey, "Woe! the blessed children both Take me, too, the joyless father!" From his hollow, cavernous breast, "Roses in the spring I gather!” SILENT LOVE. And seldom speak; And pain. |