Near Dresden lies a garden,
Therein a cherry tree,
Beneath whose fragrant shadow,
Came happy dreams to me.
On its bark my love for her,
In ardent words I traced;
In rapture, then in sorrow,
Trembling with nervous haste.
The moon so bright had risen,
Those words glared forth at night.
I glanced at them all frightened,
Then screened them from my sight.
* * * * * * * *
On zephyr's wave a whisper came,
From wicked gnomes to me addressed:
"Come here, come here, thou human toy,
And find with us thy final rest."
The Gnomes of the Saline Mountains
A FANTASTIC NARRATIVE
I.