Soon wilt find rest.
1782.-----THE CONSECRATED SPOT.
All life's journey along!-----THE FREEBOOTER,
We knew that a sonorous ring
-----May the bard these numbers praise,That are sung his fame to raise.-----
Never cease thy sighs;Murmur, whisper to my song
By Summer are brought,Against my sweetheart
When their voices thousands raise,And the dawn of morning praise,
[To the memory of an excellent and beautiful girl of 17,belonging to the village of Brienen, who perished on the 13th ofJanuary, 1809, whilst giving help on the occasion of the breakingup of the ice on the Rhine, and the bursting of the dam ofCleverham.]
"That which you see," replied the youth, who spoke with an effort,"That is our house down to which I now am about to conduct you,And that window yonder belongs to my room in the attic,Which will probably soon be yours, as we're making great changes.All these fields are ours, and ripe for the harvest to-morrow;Here in the shade we are wont to rest, enjoying our meal-time.But let us now descend across the vineyard and garden,For observe how the threatening storm is hitherward rolling,Lightening first, and then eclipsing the beautiful full moon."So the pair arose, and wauder'd down by the corn-field,
The buried pound no more I'll hide from sight.Why did I seek the road so anxiously,If hidden from my brethren 'twere to be?"
The truest maiden 'neath the sky