To the depths of the woods, where the shadows rest,
Massy and still, on the greensward’s breast,
To the rocks that resound with the water’s play—
I hear the sweet laugh of my fount—give way!
Give way!—the booming surge, the tempest’s roar,
The sea-bird’s wail shall vex my soul no more.
THE EFFIGIES.
“Der rasche Kampf verewigt einen Mann:
Er falle gleich, so preiset ihn das Lied.
Allein die Thränen, die unendlichen