And to make her only joyance,
Withered lips bestow a kiss!
Will the leaf be turning never,
Elders' reign to end forever?"
Both old and young laughed. The girls blushed and smiled aside. Amidst a thousand railleries a second garland was brought and put upon Klingsohr. They begged him, however, very earnestly not to give them such a gay song. "No," said Klingsohr, "I will take good care not to speak so lightly of your secrets; say yourselves what kind of a song you would prefer."
"Anything but a love song," cried the girls; "let it be a drinking song if you like." Klingsohr sang:--
"On verdant mountain-side is growing
The god, who heaven to us brings;
The sun's own foster-child, and glowing
With all the fire its favor flings.