gret, though bitter tears I pour;
Thou tookest all from me, but hope leftst o'er.

"Hope!" the low echoes from the shore replied,
The valleys and the forest Konrad woke,
And laughing wildly, answered, "Where am I?
To hear in this place--hope? Wherefore this song?
I do recall thy vanished happiness.
Three lovely daughters from one mother born,
And thou the first demanded as a bride.
Woe unto you, fair flowers! woe to you!
A fearful viper crept into the garden,
And where the reptile's livid breast has touched
The grass is withered and the roses fade,
And yellow as the reptile's bosom grow.
Fly from the present in thought; recall the days
Which thou hadst spent in joyousness without--
Thou'rt silent! Raise thy voice again and curse;
Let not the dreadful tear which pierces stones
Perish in vain. My helmet I'll remove.
Here let it fall; I am prepared to suffer;
Would learn betimes what waiteth me in hell.

VOICE FROM THE TOWER.

Pardon, my loved one, pardon! I am guilty!
Late was thy coming, weary 'twas to wait,
And thus, despite myself, some childish song--
Away with it! What have I to regret?
With thee, my love, with thee a passing space
We lived through; but the memory of that time
I would not change with all earth's habitants,
For tranquil life passed through in weariness.
Thyself didst say to me that common men
Are as those shells deep hidden in the marsh;
Scarce once a year by some tempestuous wave
Cast up, they peep from out the troubled water,
Open their lips, and sigh forth once towards heaven,
And to their burial once more return.
No! I am not created for such bliss.
While yet within my Fatherland I dwelt
A still life, sometimes in my comrades' midst
A longing seized me, and I sighed in secret,
And felt unquiet throbbings in my heart;
And sometimes fled I from the lower plain,
And standing on the higher hill, I thought,
If but the larks would give me from their wings
One feather only, I would fly with them,
And only from this mountain wish to pluck
One little flower, the flower forget-me-not,
And then afar beyond the clouds to fly
Higher and higher, and to disappear!
And thou didst hear me! Thou, with eagle pinions,
Monarch of birds, didst raise me to thyself.
O now, ye larks, I beg for nought from you,
For whither should she fly, what pleasures seek,
Who has the great God learned to know in heaven,
And loved a great man on this lower world?