Where 'neath the bridge the waters foam,
Dame Trout was swimming downward,
And met her cousin Salmon there:
"How are you, river-comrade?"

"I'm well," quoth he, "but thought just now:
If only lightning flashing,
Down there, would strike that stripling dead,
Him and his trumpet smashing!

The live-long day my fine young sir
On shore is promenading;
Rhine up, Rhine down, and never stops
His hateful serenading."

Dame Trout, then smiling, answered him;
"Dear cousin, you are spiteful,
I, on the contrary, do find
The Trumpeter delightful.

"If you, like him, could but enjoy
Fair Margaretta's favour,
To learn the trumpet even now,
You would not deem much labour."

VIII.

I pray that no fair rose for me,
By thy dear hands, be broken;
A slip of holly evergreen,
Be of our love the token.

The chaplet green with glossy sheen
O'er the fruit good watch is keeping;
And all will prick who try to pick
What's for another's reaping.

The gaudy rose, when Autumn comes,
Finds that her beauty waneth;
The holly leaf her modest green
Through cold and snow retaineth.

IX.

Her fragrant balm the sweet May night
O'er hill and vale is breathing,
When through the shrubs with footsteps light
To the castle I am stealing.
In the garden waves the linden-tree,
I climb to its green bower,
And from the leafy canopy
My song soars to the tower:
"Young Werner is the happiest youth
In the German Empire dwelling,
But who bewitched him thus, forsooth,
In words he won't be telling.
Hurrah! is all that he will say,
How lovely is the month of May,
Dear love, I send thee greeting!"

With joyous trills the nightingale
On the topmost bough is singing,
While far o'er mountain and o'er vale
The thrilling notes are ringing.
The birds are looking all about,
Awaking from their slumber;
From branch, and bush, and hedge burst out
Glad voices without number:
"Young Werner is the happiest youth
In the German Empire dwelling,
But who bewitched him thu