Since I bade farewell this morning
To the good monks of [ St. Blasien],
Lonely was the road and dreary.
Scattered here and there, a peasant,
Through the snow-storm running swiftly,
Hardly did my greeting notice.
Then a pair of coal-black ravens,
Who with hoarse discordant croakings,
O'er a dead mole fiercely quarrelled;
For the past two hours, however,