As if some strange, mysterious fate
Had linked two hearts in one, and mine
Went madly wheeling about thine,
Only with wider and wilder sweep!
Crier of the Dead (at a distance.)
Wake! wake!

All ye that sleep!

Pray for the Dead!

Pray for the Dead

Prince Henry, Lo! with what depth of blackness thrown
Against the clouds, far up the skies

The walls of the cathedral rise,
Like a mysterious grove of stone,

With fitful lights and shadows blending,

As from behind, the moon, ascending,

Lights its dim aisles and paths unknown!
The wind is rising; but the boughs
Rise not and fall not with the wind,

That through their foliage sobs and soughs;
Only the cloudy rack behind,

Drifting onward, wild and ragged,

Gives to each spire and buttress jagged

A seeming motion undefined.

Below on the square, on armed night,

Still as a statue, and as white,

Sits on his steed, and the moonbeams quiver

Upon the points of his armour bright

As on the ripples of a river.

He lifts the visor from his cheek,

And beckons, and makes as he would speak.

Walter the Minnesinger. Friend! can you tell me where alight
Thuringia's horsemen for the night?

For I have lingered in the rear,
And wander vainly up and down.

Prince Henry. I am a stranger in the town,
As thou art; but the voice I hear

Is not a stranger to mine ear, —

Thou art Walter of the Vogelweide!

Walter. Thou hast guessed rightly; and thy name

Is Henry of Hoheneck!

Prince Henry. Ay, the same.

Walter (embracing him). Come closer, closer to my side!

What brings thee hither? What potent charm

Has drawn thee from thy German farm

Into the old Alsatian city?

Prince Henry. A tale of wonder and of pity!
A wretched man, almost by stealth

Dragging my body to Salern,

In the vain hope and search for health,

And destined never to return.
Already thou hast heard the rest.

But what brings thee, thus armed and dight

H