His eye is closed; he sleeps, nor dreams of harm.

Wore not his cheek the apple's ruddy glow,

Would you not say he slept on
Death's cold arm?

Awake, my boy! I tremble with affright!

Awake, and chase this fatal thought!
Unclose

Thine eye but for one moment on the light!

Even at the price of thine, give me repose!

Sweet error! he but slept-I breathe again;

Come, gentle dreams, the hour of sleep beguile!

Oh, when shall he, for whom I sigh in.

vain,

Beside me watch to see thy waking smile?

THE GRAVE.

FROM THE ANGLO-SAXON.

FOR thee was a house built Ere thou wast born,

For thee was a mould meant
Ere thou of mother camest.
But it is not made ready,
Nor its depth measured,
Nor is it seen

How long it shall be.
Now I bring thee
Where thou shalt be;
Now I shall measure thee,
And the mould afterwards.

Thy house is not
Highly timbered,
It is unhigh and low;
When thou art therein,
The heel-ways are low,
The side-ways unhigh.
The roof is built
Thy breast full nigh.
So thou shalt in mould
Dwell full cold,
Dimly and dark.

Doorless is that house,
And dark it is within;
There thou art fast detained
And Death hath the key.
Loathsome is that earth-house,
And grim within to dwell.
There thou shalt dwell,
And worms shall divide thee.

Thus thou art laid, And leavest thy friends. Thou hast no friend, Who will come to thee, Who will ever see

How that house pleaseth thee; Who will ever open

The door for thee,

And descend after thee;
For soon thou art loathsome
And hateful to see.

THE HAPPIEST LAND.

FROM THE GERMAN.

THERE sat one day in quiet,

Four hale and hearty fellows,
By an alehouse on the Rhine,

And drank the precious wine.

The landlord's daughter filled their cups,

Around the rustic board;

THE BIRD AND THE SHIP. FROM THE GERMAN OF MÜLLER. "THE rivers rush into the sea,

By castle and town they go; The winds behind them merrily Their noisy trumpets blow.

"The clouds are passing far and high, We little birds in them play;

Dark-rolling wave!

Goes with us, and far away.

I haste from the narrow land.

"Full and swollen is every sail;

I see no longer a hill, I have trusted all to the sounding gale,

And it will not let me stand still.

"And wilt thou, little bird, go with us?

Thou mayest stand on the mainmast tall,

For full to sinking is my house With merry companions all.' "I need not and seek not company, Bonny boat, I can sing all alone; For the mainmast tall too heavy am I, Bonny boat I have wings of my own. "High over the sails, high over the

mast,

Who shall gainsay these joys? When thy merry companions are still, at last,

Thou shalt hear the sound of my voice.

"Who neither may rest, nor listen may,

God bless them every one!

I dart away, in the bright blue day,
And the golden fields of the sun.

"Thus do I sing my weary song,

Wherever the four winds blow; And this same song, my whole life long,

Neither Poet nor Printer may know.

WHITHER?

FROM THE GERMAN OF Müller. I HEARD a brooklet gushing

From its rocky fountain near, Down into the valley rushing,

So fresh and wondrous clear. I know not what came o'er me, Nor who the counsel gave; But I must hasten downward, All with my pilgrim-stave; Downward, and ever farther,

And ever the brook beside; And ever fresher murmured, And ever clearer, the tide.

""

The winds and the waves of ocean, Had they a merry chime? Didst thou hear, from those lofty chambers,

The harp and the minstrel's rhyme?" "The winds and the waves of ocean, They rested quietly, [wail, But heard on the gale a sound of And tears came to mine eye."

"And sawest thou on the turrets The King and his royal bride? And the wave of their crimson mantles?

And the golden crown of pride? "Led they not forth, in rapture, A beauteous maiden there? Resplendent as the morning sun, Beaming with golden hair?" "Well saw I the ancient parents, Without the crown of pride; They were moving slow, in weeds of

woe,

No maiden was by their side!"

SONG OF THE BELL.

FROM THE GERMAN.

BELL! thou soundest merrily,
When the bridal party

To the church doth hie!
Bell! thou soundest solemnly,
When, on Sabbath morning,
Fields deserted lie!

Bell! thou soundest merrily;
Tellest thou at evening,

Bed-time draweth nigh!
Bell! thou soundest mournfully;
Tellest thou the bitter

Parting hath gone by!
Say! how canst thou mourn?
How canst thou rejoice?

Thou art but metal dull!
And yet all our sorrowings,
And all our rejoicings,

Thou dost feel them all! God hath wonders many, Which we cannot fathom,

Placed within thy form! When the heart is sinking, Thou alone canst raise it, Trembling in the storm!

At the first blow,

Fell the youth from saddle-bow,
Hardly rises from the shock;
Pipe and viol call the dances,
Torch-light through the high halls
glances;

Waves a mighty shadow in ;
With manner bland

Doth ask the maiden's hand,

Doth with her the dance begin ; Danced in sable iron sark, Danced a measure weird and dark, Coldly clasped her limbs around; From breast and hair

Down fall from her the fair

Flowerets, faded, to the ground. To the sumptuous banquet came Every Knight and every Dame; "Twixt son and daughter all distraught,

With mournful mind

The ancient King reclined,

Gazed at them in silent thought. Pale the children both did look, But the guest a beaker took : "Golden wine will make you whole !"

The children drank,

Gave many a courteous thank :

Oh, that draught was very
cool!"

Each the father's breast embraces,
Son and daughter; and their faces
Colourless grow utterly;
Whichever way
Looks the fear-struck father gray,

He beholds his children die.

"Woe ! the blessed children both Takest thou in the joy of youth;

Take me, too, the joyless father!" Spake the grim Guest,

From his hollow, cavernous breast: "Roses in the spring I gather!

BEWARE!

FROM THE GERMAN.

I KNOW a maiden fair to see,

Take care!

She can both false and friendly be, Beware! Beware!

Trust her not,

She is fooling thee!