the lurid storm
Pallid lightnings break,
Their swift transient form
Flashes through the lake.

And I seem to see
Thyself, wondrous nigh--
Streaming wild and free
Thy long tresses fly.

* * * * *

[Illustration: EVENING ON THE SHORE HANS AM ENDE]

SONGS BY THE LAKE[17] (1832)

I

In the sky the sun is failing,
And the weary day would sleep,
Here the willow fronds are trailing
In the water still and deep.

From my darling I must sever:
Stream, oh tears, stream forth amain!
In the breeze the rushes quiver
And the willow sighs in pain.

On my soul in silence grieving
Mild thou gleamest from afar,
As through rushes interweaving
Gleams the mirrored evening star.

IV

Sunset dull and drear;
Dark the clouds drive past;
Sultry, full of fear,
All the winds fly fast.

Through the sky's wild rack
Shoots the lightning pale;
O'er the waters black
Burns its flickering trail.

In the vivid glare
Half I see thy form,
And thy streaming hair
Flutters in the storm.

V

On the lake as it reposes
Dwells the moon with glow serene
Interweaving pallid roses
With the rushes' crown of green.

Stags from out the hillside bushes
Gaze aloft into the night,
Waterfowl amid the rushes
Vaguely stir with flutterings light

Down my tear-dim glance I bend now,
While through all my soul a rare
Thrill of thought toward thee doth tend now
Like an ecstasy of prayer.

* * * * *

THE POSTILION[18] (1833)

Passing lovely was the night,
Silver clouds flew o'er us,
Spring, methought, with splendor dight
Led the happy chorus.

Sleep-entranced lay wood and dale,
Empty now each by-way;
No one but the moonlight pale
Roamed upon the highway.

Breezes wandering in the gloom
Soft their footsteps numbered
Through Dame Nature's sleeping-room
Where her children slumbered.

Timidly the brook stole by,
While the beds of blossom
Breathed their perfume joyously
On the still night's bosom.

My postilion, heedless all,
Cracked his whip most gaily,
And his merry trumpet-call
Rang o'er hill and valley.

Hoofs beat steadily the while,
As the horses gamboled,
And along the shady aisle
Spiritedly rambled.

Grove and meadow gliding past
Vanished