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Under them hear they the clang of harpstrings, and angels from

gold clouds Beckon to them like brothers, and fan with their pinions of purple. Closed was the Teacher's task, and with heaven in their hearts

and their faces, Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely, Downward to kiss that reverend hand, but all of them pressed he Moved to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of

blessings, Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses.

THE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR.

FROM THE GERMAN OF PFIZER.
A YOUTH, light-hearted and content,

I wander through the world;
Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent

And straight again is furled.
Yet oft I dream, that once a wife

Close in my heart was locked,
And in the sweet repose of life

A blessed child I rocked.
I wake! Away that dream,-away!

Too long did it remain !
So long, that both by night and day

It ever comes again.
The end lies ever in my thought;

To a grave so cold and deep
The mother beautiful was brought;

Then dropt the child asleep.
But now the dream is wholly o'er,

I bathe mine eyes and see;
And wander through the world once more,

A youth so light and free.
Two locks,--and they are wondrous fair,-

Left me that vision mild;
The brown is from the mother's hair,

The blond is from the child.
And when I see that lock of gold,

Pale grows the evening-red;
And when the dark lock I behold,

I wish that I were dead.

THE HEMLOCK-TREE.

FROM THE GERMAN. O HEMLOCK-TREE! O hemlock-tree! how faithful are thy branches !

Green not alone in summer time,

But in the winter's frost and rime ! O hemlock-tree! O hemlock-tree ! how faithful are thy branches ! O maiden fair! O maiden fair ! how fait, less is üy bosom!

To love me in prosperity,

And leave me in adversity! O maiden fair! O maiden fair! how faithless is thy boscm! . The nightingale, the nightingale, thou tak'st for thine cxample !

So long as summer laughs she sings,

But in the autumn spreads her wings. The nightingale, the nightingale, thou tak’st for thine example ! The meadow brook, the meadow brook, is mirror of thy falsehood !

It flows so long as falls the rain,

In drought its springs soon dry again. The meadow brook, the meadow brook, is mirror of thy falsehood!

ANNIE OF THARAW.

FROM THE LOW GIRMAN OF SIMON DACI. ANNIE of Tharaw, my true love of old, She is my life, and my goods, and my gold. Annie of Tharaw, her heart once again To me has surrendered in joy and in paip. Annie of Thazaw, my riches, my good, Thou, O my soul, my flesh and my blood ! Then come the wild weather, come sleet or come snop We will stand by each other, however it blow. Oppression, and sickness, and sorrow, and pain, Shall be to our true love as links to the chain. As the palm-tree standeth so straight and so tall, The more the hail beats, and the more the rains fall, So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong, Through crosses, through sorrows, through manifold wrong. Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone In a desolate land where the sun is scarce known,Through forests I'll follow, and where the sea flows, Through ice, and through iron, through armies of foes.

Annie of Tharaw, my light and my sun,
The threads of our two lives are woven in one.
Whate'er I have bidden thee thou hast obeyed,
Whatever forbidden thou hast not gainsaid..
How in the turmoil of life can love stand,
Where there is not one heart, and one mouth, and one hand ?
Some seek for dissension, and trouble, and strife;
Like a dog and a cat live such man and wife.
Annie of Tharaw, such is not our love;
Thou art my lambkin, my chick, and my dove.
Whate'er my desire is, in thine may be seen ;
I am king of the household, and thou art its queen.
It is this, O my Annie, my heart's sweetest rest,
That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast.
This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell;
While wrangling soon changes a home to a bell.

THE STATUE OVER THE CATHEDRAL DOOR

FROM TIE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN.
FORMS of saints and kings are standing

The cathedral door above;
Yet I saw but one among them

Who hath soothed my soul with love.
In his mantle,-Wound about him,

As their robes the sowers wind,
Bore he swallows and their fledglings,

Flowers and weeds of every kind.
And so stands he calm and childlike,

High in wind and tempest wild ;
0, were I like him exalted,

I would be like him, a child !
And my songs,-green leaves and blossoms,-

To the doors of heaven would bear,
Calling, even in storm and tempest,

Round me still these birds of air,

THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL.

FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN,
On the cross the dying Saviour

Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm,
Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling

In his pierced and bleeding palm.

And by all the world forsaken,

Sees he how with zealous care
At the ruthless nail of iron

A little bird is striving there.
Stained with blood and never tiring,

With its beak it doth not cease,
From the cross 'twould free the Saviour,

Its Creator's Son release.
And the Saviour speaks in mildness :

“Blest be thou of all the good !
Bear, as token of this moment,

Marks of blood and holy rood !"
And that bird is called the crossbill;

Covered all with blood so clear.
In the groves of pine it singeth

Songs, like legends, strange to hear.

THE SEA HATH ITS PEARLS.

320M NIB GERMAN OF AKINRICU IEINB.
THE sea hath its pearls,

The heaven hath its stars;
But my heart, my heart,

My heart hath its love.
Great are the sea and the heaven;

Yet greater is my heart,
And fairer than pearls and stars

Flashes and beams my love.
Thou little, youthful maiden,

Come unto my great heart;
My heart, and the sea, and the heaven,

Are melting away with love!

POETIC APHORISMS.

FROM THE SINNGEDICHTE OF FRIEDRICI VON LOGAU - SEVENTEENTI

CENTURY.

MONEY.
WHEREUNTO is money good ?
Who has it not wants hardihood,
Who has it has much trouble and care,
Who once has had it has despair.

THE BEST MEDICINES.
Joy and Temperance and Repose
Slam the door on the doctor's nose

SIN.
Man-like is it to fall into sin,
Fiend-like is it to dwell therein,
Christ-like is it for sin to grieve,
God-like is it all sin to leave.

POVERTY AND BLINDNESS.
A blind man is a poor man, and blind a poor man is;
For the former seeth no man, and the latter no man sees.

LAW OF LIFE.
Live I, so live I,
To my Lord heartily,
To my Prince faithfully,
To my Neighbour honestly,
Die I, so die I.

CREEDS.
Lutheran, Popish, Calvinistic, all these creeds and doctrines three
Extant are; but still the doubt is, where Christianity may be.

THE RESTLESS HEART. A millstone and the human heart are driven ever round; If they have nothing else to grind, they must themselves be ground.

CHRISTIAN LOVE.
Whilom Love was like a fire, and warmth and comfort it bespoke;
But, alas! it now is quenched, and only bites us, like the smoke.

ART AND TACT.
Intelligence and courtesy not always are combined;
Often in a wooden house a golden room we find.

RETRIBUTION.
Though the mills of God grind slowly, yet they grind exceeding

small; Though with patience hestands waiting, with exactnessgrinds he all.

TRUTH. When by night the frogs are croaking, kindle but a torch's fire, Ha! how soon they all are silent! Thus Truth silences the liar.

RHYMES. If perhaps these rhymes of mine should sound not well in strangers'

ears, They have only to bethink them that it happens so with theirs; For so long as words, like mortals, call a fatherland their own, They will be most highly valued where they are best and longes';

known.

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