statement, as well as by their freedom from prejudice.
"Deutsche Liebe" is a poem in prose, whose setting is all the more
beautiful and tender, in that it is freed from the bondage of metre,
and has been the unacknowledged source of many a poet's most striking
utterances.

As such, the translator gives it to the public, confident that it will
find ready acceptance among those who cherish the ideal, and a tender
welcome by every lover of humanity.

The translator desires to make acknowledgments to J. J. Lalor, Esq.,
late of the Chicago _Tribune_ for his hearty co-operation in the
progress of the work, and many valuable suggestions; to Prof. Feuling,
the eminent philologist, of the University of Wisconsin, for his
literal version of the extracts from the "Deutsche Theologie," which
preserve the quaintness of the original, and to Mrs. F. M. Brown, for
her metrical version of Goethe's almost untranslatable lines, "Ueber
allen Gipfeln, ist Ruh," which form the keynote of the beautiful
harmony in the character of the heroine.

G.P.U.
Chicago, November, 1874.

AUTHOR'S PREFACE.

Who has not, at some period of his life, seated himself at a
writing-table, where, only a short time before, another sat, who now
rests in the grave? Who has not opened the drawers, which for long
years have hidden the secrets of a heart now buried in the holy peace
of the church-yard? Here lie the letters which were so precious to
him, the beloved one; here the pictures, ribbons, and books with marks
on every leaf. Who can now read and interpret them? Who can gather
again the withered and scattered leaves of this rose, and vivify them
with fresh perfume? The flames, in which the Greeks enveloped the
bodies of the departed for the purpose of destruction; the flames, into
which the ancients cast everything once dearest to the living, are now
the securest repository for these relics. With trembling fear the
surviving friend reads the leaves no eye has ever seen, save those now
so firmly closed, and if, after a glance, too hasty even to read them,
he is convinced these letters and leaves contain nothing which men deem
important, he throws them quickly upon the glowing coals--a flash and
they are gone.

From such flames the following leaves have been saved. They were at
first intended only for the friends of the deceased, yet they have
found friends even among strangers, and, since it is so to be, may
wander anew in distant lands.