SCHMIDT VON LÜBECK. [1766-1849.] THE STRANGER'S EVENING SONG. I COME from o'er the mountains free, The twilight lies on wood and sea ; I look towards the evening star, My home it is so far, so far. Now has the night her tent unfurled High over God's wide sleeping world- The world so full, I lonely all; The world so great, and I so small. They live in houses side by side, And there they peacefully abide ; The stranger's staff must wander still Across the vale, across the hill. The morning and the evening ray On many a quiet vale doth play; And evermore the sigh asks 'Where?' The sun to me seems pale and cold, The blossoms fade, and life is old, And what they speak is empty air; I am a stranger ev'rywhere. Where art thou, land beloved, mine own, Long sought for, dreamed of, never known? The land, the land of hopeful light The land where bloom my roses bright? There wander all my dreams amain, And there my dead arise again; The land that speaks my language dear, And owneth all I long for here. In dreams o'er time and space I flee, I softly ask of flower and tree, And still the air brings back the sound, 'Where thou art not, is gladness found.' FRIEDERICH VON MATTHISSON. [1761-1831.] ADELAIDE. LONELY wanders thy friend in the garden at spring time, Mildly around him flows a soft and magical radiance, That through the wavering boughs of blossom trembleth, Adelaide ! In the mirroring stream, in the snow of the mountains, In the gold-bordered clouds at the daylight's declining, In the host of the stars thine image appeareth, Adelaide ! Whisper the breezes of eve through the delicate foliage, Silver bells of the May through the grasses are rustling, Billows murmuring flow, and nightingales singing, Adelaide ! Some day, lo! on my grave will wondrously blossom, From out the ashes of my heart, a flower; Plainly glimmers on each of the petals of purple, Adelaide ! AN EVENING LANDSCAPE. GOLDEN light Crowns the height. Soft subdued, a magic glory Lights yon wooded castle hoary. |