Would wander;
And if the choice remain'd with me,
Would hasten back there presently.
YOUTH.
Farewell, thou who with me dost prove
Love's sadness!
Perchance some day thou'lt breathe of love
And gladness.
Go, tell her straight, and often too,
The boy's mute hopes and wishes true.
1797. ——-
THE MAID OF THE MILL'S TREACHERY.
[This Ballad is introduced in the Wanderjahre, in a tale called
The Foolish Pilgrim.]
WHENCE comes our friend so hastily,
When scarce the Eastern sky is grey?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,