P 0 E T it Y.
FROM HEINE.
ICH WEISS NICHT, WAS SOLL ES DRDEUTEN."
A BODING sadness is o'er me, And I know not what this may imply, For still there keeps floating before me A legend of times gone by.
Around me the cool air falls darkling, The Rhino flows peacefully on ; While the top of the mountain is sparkling With sunlight that soon will be gone.
To a wonderful maiden I listen, Yonder sits she, exceeding fair ; See her jewels of gold, how they glisten, As she combs out her golden hair.
ft falls in a golden shower From her golden comb, as she sings; And thrilling and strange is the power That through the sweet melody rings!
You boatman feels the song move him, It thrills him with nameless woe, He sees but the heavens above him, Neither rock nor reef below !
Boat and boatman are downward swinging, Their course, I believe, is run ; And this with her wild sad singing The river-nymph has done. J. H. H.
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