ces
Readily could be distinguished.
Margaret in playful humour,
Out of hazel-leaves and holly,
And of violets and crowfoot,
Wound a garland, and said archly:
"This wreath to the most deserving!
But I'm puzzled who shall get it--
Whether he who sang the May-song,
Or else he who on the trumpet
Played the fine accompaniment."

Said the Baron: "In this matter
I will give a just decision.
Ever the first prize is given
To the poet; but a garland
Or a laurel-crown, what are they?
I agree with the old Grecians
Who awarded to the singer
Just the victim's fattest portion,
As the saddle or the buttock.
And I fancy that the teacher's
Stores are not so well provided,
That he'll offer an objection.
Therefore I make him a present
Of the largest pike and carp, which
Still are left among our booty.
But as my young friend, the trumpeter,
Seems disposed less practically,
So you may, in my opinion,
Honour him with your fair garland;
For, indeed, he played not badly."

Simpering now the happy singer
Rubbed his hands and blessed the May-time,
As he saw a glowing vision
Of the pan with fishes frying.
But young Werner to the maiden
Bashfully approached, and lowly
Bending on his knee, he hardly
Dared to gaze at her blue eyes.
But with grace placed Margaretta
On his brow the blooming garland,
While a weird and lurid fire-light
Suddenly in fitful flashes
Fell upon the group assembled.
For the embers on the hearth-stone
Had ignited the old pine-tree.
Flaming fiery tongues now glided
Through the branches full of resin;
And the sparks flew crackling upward
Wildly to the evening sky.

Margaretta, Margaretta!
Were they fireworks which the pine woods
Fondly burned to do thee honour?
Or did Cupid with his flaming
Love-torch wander through the forest?
But the flames were soon extinguished.
And the Baron now gave orders
That the party should break up; and
Fishers, riders, noble ladies,
All went homeward in the twilight.
Faintly glimmering fell the last bright
Sparks from out the pine-tree branches,
Sinking in the mountain-lake.

EI