. Ballads. slack,And though he twist, and twirl, and tackAlas ! still faithful to his back. The pigtail hangs behind him. THE CHAPLET. FKOM XTHLAND.« Es pfluckte Bliimlein manigfalt. A LITTLE girl through field and woodWent plucking flowerets here and there. When suddenly beside her stoodA lady, wondrous fair. L18 TlIK ( The luvcly lady smiled, and laidA wreath upon the maidens brow; AVear it, twill blossom soon, she said, Although tis leafless now. The little maiden older grew. And wandered forth of moonlight eves, And sighed and loved, as maids will do;When, lo! her wreath bore leave
. Ballads. slack,And though he twist, and twirl, and tackAlas ! still faithful to his back. The pigtail hangs behind him. THE CHAPLET. FKOM XTHLAND.« Es pfluckte Bliimlein manigfalt. A LITTLE girl through field and woodWent plucking flowerets here and there. When suddenly beside her stoodA lady, wondrous fair. L18 TlIK ( The luvcly lady smiled, and laidA wreath upon the maidens brow; AVear it, twill blossom soon, she said, Although tis leafless now. The little maiden older grew. And wandered forth of moonlight eves, And sighed and loved, as maids will do;When, lo! her wreath bore leaves. Then was our maid a wife, and hungUpon a joyful bridegrooms bosom ; When from the garlands leaves there sprungFair store of blossom. And presently a baby fair Upon her gentle breast she reared ; When midst the wreath that bound her golden fruit appeared. But when her love lay cold in death, . Sunk in the black and silent tomb,All sere and withered Avas the wreath That wont so brisht to 220 TIIK KINO ON TIIK TOAVKK. Yet still the withered wreath she wore; She wore it at her dying hour;When, lo ! the wondrous garland bore Both leaf, and fruit, and flower! THE KING ON THE TOWER. Da liegen sie alle, die grauen IlOhen. The cold gray hills they bind me aroundThe darksome valleys lie sleeping below, But the winds as they pass oer all this groundBring me never a sound of woe! O ! for all I have suffered and striven,Care has imbittered my cup and my feast; But here is the night and the dark blue heaven,And my soul shall be at rest. O golden legends writ in the skies ! I turn towards you ?with longing list to the awful harmonies Of the Spheres as on they roll.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1880, bookpublisherbosto, bookyear1881
