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In heaven the angels

Their eyes gently close:
They're sobbing and soothing
The soul to rерове.

THE BROOK.

When love has o'ermastered

Its hopes and fears,

A new star, bright shining,
in heaven appears.

Then blossom three roses,
Half white, half red,
That never shall wither
In garden bed.

And in heaven the angels
Their pinions will clip,
And earthwards each morning
Will fairily trip.

THE MILLER.

Ah, brooklet, lovely brooklet,
Thou'rt faithful and true;

Ah, brooklet, but thou know'st not
What love can do.

Ah, down there, far down there,

'Tis cool and deep.

Ah, brooklet, lovely brooklet,

Now sing me to sleep.

CRADLE SONG OF THE BROOK.

SWEETLY sleep, sweetly sleep!
I'll thy vigil keep!

Wanderer, so weary, thou 'rt now at home.
Securely rest

Asleep on my breast,

Till the brooklets mingle with ocean foam.

Thy bed shall be cool

In moss-lined pool,

In the chamber of sparkling blue crystal clear; Come, wavelets, wave,

His cradle lave,

Soothe him and rock him, my comrade so dear.

When the sound of horn

From the greenwood's borne,

I will rush and I'll gush, that thou mayst not hear. Peep ye not through,

Little flow'rets blue!

You make all the dreams of my sleeper so drear.

Away, away

From my margin stay,

Wicked maiden, lest from thy shadow he wake!
But throw me down,

Thy kerchief brown,

So for his eyes I'll a bandage make!

Now good-night, now good-night!
Till all's made right,

Forget all thy hopes, and forget thy fate!
The moon shines bright,

The mists take flight,

And the heaven above me how wide and how great!

VINETA.

FROM the sea's deep hollow faintly pealing,
Far-off evening bells come sad and slow;
Faintly rise, the wondrous tale revealing
Of the old enchanted town below.

On the bosom of the flood reclining,

Ruined arch and wall and broken spire,
Down beneath the watery mirror shining,
Gleam and flash in flakes of golden fire.

And the boatman, who at twilight hour,
Once that magic vision shall have seen,
Heedless how the crags may round him lower,
Evermore will haunt the charmèd scene.

From the heart's deep hollow faintly pealing,
Far I hear them, bell-notes sad and slow,
Ah! a wild and wondrous tale revealing
Of the drowned wreck of love below.

There a world in loveliness decaying
Lingers yet in beauty ere it die;
Phantom forms across my senses playing,
Flash like golden fire-flakes from the sky.

Lights are gleaming, fairy bells are ringing,
And I long to plunge and wander free
Where I hear those angel-voices singing
In those ancient towers below the sea.

THE SCARF.

It was a king's fair daughter,

Tall, lily-fair, blue-eyed, Who spun a silvern girdle

Throughout the long summertide.

Upon a high chair seated
Before her castle door,

In the clear and liquid moonlight
She weaved from hour to hour.

Passed daily knights of valor,
Of valor one and all,
And each within him queried :

"To whom shall this scarf fall?"

She looked not up from her labor;
No questions answered she;
She wrought her name in the border
In black embroidery.

There came a wild storm raging,

From the mountains hither hurled, Which the scarf tore from its framework And into the deep sea hurled.

Unmoved remained the maiden,
As if 't were a thing of nought;
She rose from her seat, and slowly
The depths of her chamber sought.

From out of a boudoir closet

A black mourning robe she drew; Whoe'er for a light scarf merely

Such heavy mourning knew?

Three days and three nights stayed she
In her gloomy garb arrayed;

In the third night's depths the watchman
A loud alarum made.

At the gate conveyed a herald
This message from afar:

"The ship of the king's great navy
On the high sea scattered are.

"And the wild waves in their fury
Have dashed upon the shore
Full many an o'erwhelmed hero,
Full many a hero's store."

The king's fair daughter standeth
Beside her window there:
"On thy arm what is 't that flutters,
Herald, in the moonlight clear?"

"It is a wrought scarf silvern

I bring from the ocean's strand,
Where from a knight I wrested
The gaud out of his strong hand."

"Of this thou 'dst not be boasting
Should that knight living be!
Bear back to him thy booty

Back to the deep blue sea.

"And when thou shalt entomb him,

Let this scarf buried be,

And then beside his pallet
Let one spot be left free."

PASTORAL SONG.

SHEPHERD.

ADIEU, adieu, belov'd one;

And reach to me thy hand:

My herd I must be driving

Into a lower land.

The stubblefield is vacant

Where late hath hay been mown;

Here let us with blue ribbons

Bind Love and Truth in one.

Upon the hat I'll wear them,
Thou 'lt wear them on the breast;
And when thy heart beats 'gainst them,
Shall I feel sadly blest.

When look'st thou from the mountain
Into the dark'ning night,

A fire thou wilt see burning,
Which thy belov'd keeps bright.

And when the flames reach higher,
And brighter grows their glow,
Then think 't is his heart yearning
To mount up from below.

SHEPHERDESS.

Adieu, adieu, belov'd one;
How show I thee my heart!
Within its still, small chamber
It locks both zest and smart.

When mine eyes from my window
Down in the wide field stray,
No tears from their depths falling
My feeling shall betray.

A fire when I see burning

Bright in the dense, dark night, I'll bless the station yonder

That my belov'd keeps bright.

And when the flames mount higher,
And brighter grows their glow,
I'll cradle all my sorrows
Within their fiery flow.

Do not the fire extinguish,
Belov'd, ere breaks the light:
I could not gain my slumber
If I should miss thy light.

SWEETHEARTS EVERYWHERE.

I'VE on the Rhine a sweetheart fine,
A sweetheart on the Spree,

A third at hand in Switzerland,
A fourth upon the sea.

And where I stay or whither stray,

In castle, town, or field,

I find a sweetheart in my way,

The fairest earth doth yield.

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