By Neckar’s banks, or shady wood,
And pluck’d you from beside the way;
Tell, too, the tale to you addressed,
And how with tender care,
Your bending leaves he press’d
’Twixt pages of some volume rare.
Bear then, O flowers, love’s message bear;
My love to all the lov’d ones there,
Peace to my country—fruitful land—
Faith whereon its sons may stand,