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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 Around the rustic board;

Then sat they all so calm and still,

And spake not one rude word.

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
Cannot with that compare;
With all the stout and hardy men
And the nut-brown maidens there."

"Ha!" cried a Saxon, laughing,

And dashed his beard with wine; "I had rather live in Lapland,

Than that Swabian land of thine!

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She has a bosom as white as snow,
Take care!

She knows how much it is best to show,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,

She gives a side-glance and looks down, She is fooling thee!

Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,

She is fooling thee!

And she has hair of a golden hue, Take care!

And what she says, it is not true,

She gives thee a garland woven fair,
Take care!

It is a fool's-cap for thee to wear,
Beware! Beware!
Trust her not,

She is fooling thee!

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THE CASTLE BY THE SEA.

FROM UHLAND.

Hast thou seen that lordly castle,
That Castle by the Sea?
Golden and red above it

The clouds float gorgeously.

"And fain it would stoop downward
To the mirrored wave below;
And fain it would soar upward
In the evening s crimson glow."

Well have I seen that castle,
That Castle by the Sea,
And the moon above it standing,
And the mist rise solemnly."

"The winds and the waves of ocean,
Had they a merry chime?

Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers,

The harp and the minstrel's rhyme ?"

"The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly;

But I heard on the gale a sound of wail. And tears came to mine eye."

"And sawest thou on the turrets
The King and his royal bride!
And the wave of their crimson mantles?
And the golden crown of pride?

"Led they not forth, in rapture,
A beauteous maiden there?
Resplendent as the morning sun,
Beaming with golden hair?"

"Well saw I the ancient parents; Without the crown of pride;

They were moving slow, in weeds of

woe,

No maiden was by their side!"

WANDERER'S NIGHT-SONGS.

FROM GOETHE.

I.

THOU that from the heaven's art,
Every pain and sorrow stillest,
And the doubly wretched heart
Doubly with refreshment fillest
I am weary with contending!
Why this rapture and unrest?
Peace descending

Come, ah, come into my breast!

II.

O'er all the hill-tops

Is quiet now,

In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou

Hardly a breath;

The birds are asleep in the trees.

Wait; soon like these

Thou too shalt rest.

THE BLACK KNIGHT.

FROM THE GERMAN OF UHLAND.

"TWAS Pentecost, the Feast of Gladness, When woods and fields put off all sadness, Thus began the King and spake; "So from the halls

Of ancient Hofburgh's walls,

A luxuriant Spring shall break."

Drums and trumpets echo loudly,
Wave the crimson banners proudly.
From balcony the King looked on;
In the play of spears,

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,
Danced a measure weird and dark,
Coldly clasped her limbs around.
From breast and hair
Down fall from her the fair
Flowerets, faded, to the ground.

To the sumptuous banquet came
Every Knight and every Dame.

Twixt son and daughter all dis-
traught,

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;
"Oh, that draught was very cool!"

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, Hardly rises from the shock.

Pipe and viol call the dances,
Torch-light through the high hall glances;
Waves a mighty shadow in;
With manner bland
Doth ask the maiden's hand,
Doth with her the dance begin;

Son and daughter; and their faces Colourless grow utterly. Whichever way

Looks the fear-struck father grey,

He beholds his children die.

"Woe the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth;

Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest, From his hollow, cavernous breast, "Roses in the spring I gather!"

SILENT LOVE.
WHO love would seek,
Let him love evermore
And seldom speak;
For in love's don ain
Silence must reign;
Or it brings the heart
Smart

And pain.

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THE LUCK OF EDENHALL.

FROM UHLAND.

[The tradition upon which this ballad is founded, and the "shards of the Luck of Edenhall," still exist in England. The goblet is in the possession of Sir Christopher Musgrave, Bart., of Eden Hall, Cumberland; and is not so entirely shattered as the ballad leaves it.]

OF Edenhall, the youthful lord

Bids sound the festal trumpet's call;
He rises at the banquet board,

And cries, 'mid the drunken revellers all,
"Now bring me the Luck of Edenhall!"

The butler hears the words with pain,

The house's oldest seneschal

Takes slow from its silken cloth again
The drinking glass of crystal tall;
They call it the Luck of Edenhall.

Then said the lord: "This glass to praise,
Fill with red wine from Portugal!"
The grey-beard with trembling hand obeys;
A purple light shines over all,

It beams from the Luck of Edenhall.

Then speaks the lord, and waves it light,
"This glass of flashing crystal tall
Gave to my sires the Fountain-Sprite;
She wrote in it; If this glass doth fall,
Farewell then, O Luck of Edenhall!

""Twas right a goblet the Fate should be
Of the joyous race of Edenhall!
Deep draughts drink we right willingly;
And willingly ring, with merry call,
Kling! klang! to the luck of Edenhall!"

First rings it deep, and full, and mild,

Like to the sound of a nightingale;

Then like the roar of a torrent wild;

Then mutters at last like the thunder's fall,

The glorious Luck of Edenhall.

"For its keeper takes a race of might,

The fragile goblet of crystal tall;

It has lasted longer than is right;

Kling! klang! with a harder blow than all
Will I try the Luck of Edenhall!"

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