Oppression, and sickness, and sorrow, and pain As the palm-tree standeth so straight and so tall, The more the hail beats, and the more the rains fall,— So love in our hearts shall grow mighty and strong, Through crosses, through sorrows, through manifold wrong. Shouldst thou be torn from me to wander alone Through forests I'll follow, and where the sea flows, The threads of our two lives are woven in one. Whate'er I have bidden thee thou hast obeyed, How in the turmoil of life can love stand, Where there is not one heart, and one mouth, and one hand? Some seek for dissension, and trouble, and strife; Annie of Tharaw, such is not our love; Thou art my lambkin, my chick, and my dove. Whate'er my desire is, in thine may be seen; It is this, O my Annie, my heart's sweetest rest, That makes of us twain but one soul in one breast. This turns to a heaven the hut where we dwell; THE STATUE OVER THE CATHEDRAL-DOOR. FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN. FORMS of saints and kings are standing The cathedral-door above; Yet I saw but one among them Who hath soothed my soul with love. In his mantle, wound about him, And so stands he calm and childlike, Oh, were I like him exalted, I would be like him, a child! And my songs,-green leaves and blossoms,— Round me still these birds of air. THE LEGEND OF THE CROSSBILL. FROM THE GERMAN OF JULIUS MOSEN. On the cross the dying Saviour And by all the world forsaken, A little bird is striving there. Stained with blood and never tiring, And the Saviour speaks in mildness: "Blest be thou of all the good! Bear, as token of this moment, Marks of blood and holy rood!" And that bird is called the crossbill; In the groves of pine it singeth Songs, like legends, strange to hear. THE SEA HATH ITS PEARLS. FROM THE GERMAN OF HEINRICH HEINE. THE sea hath its pearls, The heaven hath its stars; But my heart, my heart, My heart hath its love. Great are the sea and the heaven ; Thou little, youthful maiden, My heart, and the sea, and the heaven POETIC APHORISMS. FROM THE SINNGEDICHTE OF FRIEDRICH VON LOGAU. Seventeenth Century. MONEY. WHEREUNTO is money good? Who has it not wants hardihood, THE BEST MEDICINES. Joy and temperance and repose SIN. Man-like is it to fall into sin, |