37.
Stars with golden feet are wand’ring
Yonder, and they gently weep
That they cannot earth awaken,
Who in night’s arms is asleep.
List’ning stand the silent forests,
Every leaf an ear doth seem!
How its shadowy arm the mountain
Stretcheth out, as though in dream.
What call’d yonder? In my bosom
Rings the echo of the tone.
Was it my beloved one speaking,
Or the nightingale alone?