(The Original is by Goëthe, Author of Werter.)
Who is it that rides through the forest so fast,
While night frowns around him, while chill roars the blast?
The father, who holds his young son in his arm,
And close in his mantle has wrapped him up warm.
—"Why trembles my darling? Why shrinks he with fear?"
"Oh father! my father! the Erl-king is near!
The Erl-king, with his crown and his beard long and white!"
—"Oh! thine eyes are deceived by the vapours of night."
—"If you will, dear baby, with me go away,
I will give you fine clothes; we will play a fine play;
Fine flowers are growing, white, scarlet and blue,
On the banks of yon river, and all are for you."
—"Oh father! my father! and dost thou not hear
What words the Erl-king whispers low in mine ear?"—
—"Now hush thee, my darling, thy terrors appease:
Thou hear'st 'midst the branches when murmurs the breeze."
—"If you will, dear baby, with me go away,
My daughter shall tend you so fair and so gay;
My daughter, in purple and gold who is drest,
Shall nurse you, and kiss you, and sing you to rest."
—"Oh father! my father! and dost thou not see?
The Erl-king and his daughter are waiting for me?"
—"Now shame thee, my dearest! 'tis fear makes thee blind:
Thou seest the dark willows which wave in the wind."—
—"I love you! I dote on that face so divine!
I must and will have you, and force makes you mine!"
—"My father! my father! Oh hold me now fast!
He pulls me! he hurts, and will have me at last!"—
The father, he trembled; he doubled his speed:
O'er hills and through forests he spurred his black steed:
But when he arrived at his own castle-door,
Life throbbed in the sweet baby's bosom no more.
Weekly Mag., III-93, Aug. 18, 1798, Phila.