A ring of gold she gave me,
And vowed she would be true;
The vow long since was broken,
The gold ring snapped in two.
I would I were a minstrel,
To rove the wide world o'er,
And sing afar my measures,
And rove from door to door;
Or else a soldier, flying
Deep into furious fight,
By silent camp-fires lying
A-field in gloomy night.
Hear I the mill-wheel going:
I know not what I will;
'Twere best if I were dying—
Then all were calm and still.
[Illustration: JOSEPH VON EICHENDORFF]
* * * * *
MORNING PRAYER[36] (1833)
O silence, wondrous and profound!
O'er earth doth solitude still reign;
The woods alone incline their heads,
As if the Lord walked o'er the plain.
I feel new life within me glow;
Where now is my distress and care?
Here in the blush of waking morn,
I blush at yesterday's despair.
To me, a pilgrim, shall the world,
With all its joy and sorrows, be
But as a bridge that leads, O Lord,
Across the stream of time to Thee.