“I like a cavalier Frances,[272] And a Catalonian dame; The courtesy of the Genoese And Castilian dignity The Provence songs,[273] my ears to please, And the dance of the Trevisan; The graceful form of the Arragoneze And the pearl of the Julian;[274] An English face and hands to see, And a page of Tuscany.”[275] The love songs of the Germans were not so fiery as those of Provence; while the adoration of the troubadour for his love went all lengths, the German knight rendered to his own a much quieter, (and chaster) species of homage. There were not such criminal passions (often ending in murder at the hands of the outraged husband) as in France. In epic poems this school was very successful, and that stateliest of German poems, “The _Nibelungen-lied_,” dates from about this time, although its author is not known. The preservation of many of the songs of the Minne-singers is due to Rudiger of Manesse, a senator of Zurich (fourteenth century). To those who are desirous of seeing the main part of his collection we cannot do better than to recommend the excellent work of F. von der Hagen, (“_Minne-sänger_,” _Manessische Sammlung_), in which all the gems of this early growth of mediæval poetry are given. One peculiar species of their songs were called “_Wacht-lieder_” (Watch-songs), and represent the pleading of the knight, with the watchman of the castle, for admittance to his love; or the warning of the watchman to the lover in the castle, to avoid discovery by leaving while it was yet dark. We present the reader with a specimen (author unknown). Vor tags ich hort, in liebes port, wohl diese wort, Von wächters mund erklingen; Ist jeman ji, vorborgen hie, derachte wie, Er mog hindannen sprengen, &c. I heard before the dawn of day The watchman loud proclaim;— “If any knightly lover stay In secret with his dame, Take heed the sun will soon appear; Then fly, ye knights, your ladies dear, Fly ere the day-light dawn. “Brightly gleams the firmament, In silvery splendor gay, Rejoicing that the night is spent, The lark salutes the day: Then fly, ye lovers, and begone! Take leave before the night is done, And jealous eyes appear.” That watchman’s call did wound my heart, And banished my delight; “Alas, the envious sun will part Our loves, my lady bright.” On me she looked with downcast eye, Despairing at my mournful cry, “We tarry here too long.” Straight to the wicket did she speed; “Good watchman spare thy joke! Warn not my love, till o’er the mead The morning sun has broke: Too short, alas! the time, since here I tarried with my leman dear, In love and converse sweet.” “Lady, be warn’d! on roof and mead The dew-drops glitter gay, Then quickly bid thy leman speed, Nor linger till the day; For by the twilight did I mark Wolves hyeing to their covert dark, And stags to covert fly.”