LITMIR.BIZ

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violets, jessamine.

      By the brook’s side, on the meadow,

       Sweetly mused I in those days;

       Now I see a pale thin shadow,

       When upon the brook I gaze.

      Pale and thin my grief hath made me,

       Since mine eyes upon her fell;

       Secret sorrows now pervade me,

       Wonderful and hard to tell.

      Deep within my heart I cherish’d

       Angel forms of peace and love,

       Which have fled, their short joys perish’d,

       To their starry home above.

      Ghastly shadows rise unbidden,

       Black night round mine eyes is thrown;

       In my trembling breast is hidden

       A sad whisp’ring voice unknown.

      Unknown sorrows, unknown anguish

       Toss me wildly to and fro,

       And I pine away and languish,

       Tortured by an unknown glow.

      But the cause why I am lying

       Rack’d by fiery torments now—

       Why from very grief I’m dying—

       Love, behold!—The cause art thou!

      3. YEARNING.

      With sweetheart on arm, all my comrades with joy

       Beneath the linden trees move;

       But I, alas, poor desolate boy,

In utter solitude rove

      Mine eye grows dim, my heart is oppress’d,

       When happy lovers I see;

       For a sweetheart by me is also possess’d,

       But, alas, far distant is she.

      I have borne it for years, with a heart fit to break,

       But no longer can bear with the pain;

       So pack up my bundle, my pilgrim’s staff take,

       And start on my travels again.

      And onward I go for hundreds of miles,

       Till I come to a city renown’d;

       A noble river beneath it smiles,

       With three stately towers ’tis crown’d.

      And now my late sorrows no longer annoy,

       Made happy at last is my love;

       For there, with my sweetheart on arm, I with joy

       Can beneath the sweet linden trees rove.

      4. THE WHITE FLOWER

      In father’s garden there silently grows

       A flow’ret mournful and pale;

       The spring-time returns, the winter’s frost goes,

       Pale flow’ret remaineth as pale.

       The poor pale flower looks still

       Like a young bride that’s ill.

      Pale flow’ret gently saith to me—

       “Dear brother, pluck me, I pray!”

       I answer pale flow’ret—“That must not be,

       I never will take thee away.

       I seek with anxious care

       A purple flow’ret fair.”

      Pale flow’ret saith—“Seek here, seek there,

       Seek e’en till the day of thy death,

       But still that purple flow’ret fair

       Thou’lt seek in vain,” she saith.

       “But, prythee, pluck me now,

I am as ill as thou.”

      Thus whispers pale flow’ret, beseeching me sore;

       I tremblingly pluck her, and lo!

       I find my heart suddenly bleeding no more,

       Mine inward eye brightly doth glow.

       Mute angel-rapture blest

       Now fills my wounded breast.

      5. PRESENTIMENT.

      Yonder, where the stars glow nightly,

       We shall find those joys smile brightly

       Which on earth seem far away.

       Only in Death’s cold embraces

       Life grows warm, and light replaces

       Night’s dark gloom at dawn of day.

      6.

      When I am with my sweetheart kind,

       A happy youth am I;

       So great the wealth within my mind,

       I the whole world could buy.

      But when her swanlike arms I quit,

       In that sad hour of pain,

       Away my boasted wealth doth flit,

       And I am poor again.

      7.

      I would the songs I’m singing

       Had little flow’rets been;

       I’d send them to my sweetheart

       For her to smell, I ween.

      I would the songs I’m singing

       Were kisses all unseen;

       I’d send them all in secret

       Upon her cheeks to glean.

      I would the songs I’m singing

       Were little peas so green;

       I’d make some capital pea-soup

       All in a soup-tureen!

      8.

      Of peace, and happiness, and heart,

       Thou, loved one, long time hast bereft me;

       And of the gifts that thou hast left me

       Not one of these doth form a part.

      For peace, heart, happiness, hast thou

       To me a life-long sorrow given,

       With bitter words commingled even—

       O take these back, my loved one, now.

      9.

      Remember’st thou those fiery glances

       In which his trust the novice plac’d?

       That long-denied first kiss of passion

       The ardent lover stole in haste?

      O glances, ye experienced fish-hooks,

       On which the fish is captive brought!

       O kiss, thou charming rod of honey,

       With which the bird is limed and caught!

      10.

      Thou spak’st and gav’st a lock to me

       Of thy dear silken hair;

       “Wear this, and I for ever thee

       “Within

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