Yet still my plaint is uttered,
My tears and sighs are given
To earth's unconscious waters,
And wandering winds of heaven.

I saw from this fair region,
The smile of summer pass,
And myriad frost-stars glitter
Among the russet grass.

While winter seized the streamlets That fled along the ground, And fast in chains of crystal

The truant murmurers bound.

I saw that to the forest

The nightingales had flown, And every sweet-voiced fountain Had hushed its silver tone.

The maniac winds, divorcing

The turtle from his mate,

Raved through the leafy beeches,

Aeft them desolate.

Now May, with life and music,
The blooming valley fills,

And rears her flowery arches
For all the little rills.

The minstrel bird of evening Comes back on joyous wings, And, like the harp's soft murmur, Is heard the gush of springs.

And deep within the forest
Are wedded turtles seen,

Their nuptial chambers seeking,

Their chambers close and green.

The rugged trees are mingling
Their flowery sprays in love;

The ivy climbs the laurel,

To clasp the boughs above.

They change-but thou, Lisena,
Art cold while I complain:

Why to thy lover only

Should spring return in vain?

A NORTHERN LEGEND.

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

THERE sits a lovely maiden,

The ocean murmuring nigh;

She throws the hook, and watches; The fishes pass it by.

A ring, with a red jewel,
Is sparkling on her hand;
Upon the hook she binds it,
And flings it from the land.

Uprises from the water

A hand like ivory fair.

What gleams upon its finger?
The golden ring is there.

Uprises from the bottom

A

young and handsome knight;

In golden scales he rises,

That glitter in the light.

!