And a clash of spears our hills among,
And a trumpet from afar;
And the brave on a bloody turf must lie—
For the Huntsman hath gone by!
[319] Minnesinger, love-singer—the wandering minstrels of Germany were so called in the middle ages.
BRANDENBURG HARVEST-SONG.[320]
FROM THE GERMAN OF LA MOTTE FOUQUE.
The corn in golden light
Waves o’er the plain;
The sickle’s gleam is bright;