The following lines, written two days before he died, were addressed to a fragrant, golden-coloured flower whose English name I cannot ascertain. TO THE GULDENLAK. Sweet flower! before thy reign is o’er, I shall be gone, to return no more, Before thou losest thy crown of gold, I shall lie low in the cold dark mould. Open the window, and raise me up! My last glance must rest on her golden cup. My soul will kiss her, as it passes by And wave farewell from the distant sky. Yea, _twice_ will I kiss thy fragrant lip, Where the wild honey-bee loves to sip. The _first_, I will give for thy _own_ dear sake; The _second_, thou must to my _rose-bush_ take. I shall sleep sound in the silent tomb, Before the beautiful bush will bloom; But ask her the first fair rose to lay On her lover’s grave, to fade away. Give her the kiss I gave thee to keep, And bid her come on my breast to sleep; And, glowing flower, with sweetest breath, Be thou our bridal torch in death! THE EMIGRANT BOY. ’Tis lone on the waters, When eve’s mournful bell, Sends forth to the sunset A note of farewell. When, borne with the shadows And winds, as they sweep, There comes a fond memory Of home o’er the deep. HEMANS. In the old town of Rüdesheim, on the Rhine, is one of those dilapidated castles, which impart such picturesque beauty to the scenery of Germany. Among the ruins, Karl Schelling, a poor hard-working peasant, made for himself a home. With him dwelt his good wife Liesbet, and two blue-eyed children, named Fritz and Gretchen. A few cooking utensils, and wooden stools, constituted all their furniture; and one brown-and-white goat, was all they had to remind them of flocks and herds. But these poor children led a happier life, than those small imitations of humanity, who are bred up in city palaces, and drilled to walk through existence in languid drawing-room paces. From moss-grown arches in the old ruins, they could watch boats and vessels gliding over the sparkling Rhine, and see broad meadows golden with sunshine. On the terrace of the castle, the wind had planted many flowers. It was richly carpeted with various kinds of moss, tufts of grass, blue-bells, and little pinks. Here Karl often carried his goat to feed, and left the children to tend upon him. There had been a stork’s nest on the roof, from time immemorial; and the little ones were early taught to reverence the birds, as omens of blessing. Their simple young souls were quite unconscious of poverty. The splendid Rhine, with all its islands--the broad pasture-lands, with herds peacefully grazing--houses nestling among woody hills--all seemed to belong to them; and in reality, they possessed them more truly than many a rich man, who “One moment gazes on his flowers, The next they are forgot; And eateth of his rarest fruits, As though he ate them not.”