Anon one comrade passed away, And presently another-- And yet unto the tryst each day Repaired the lonely brother, And still, as gayly as of old, That third one, hero-hearted, Filled to the brim each cup of gold And called to the departed: "O comrades mine, I see you not, Nor hear your kindly greeting; Yet in this old familiar spot Be still our loving meeting! Here have I filled each bouting cup With juices red and cherry-- I pray ye drink the portion up, And, as of old, make merry!" And once before his tear-dimmed eyes, All in the haunted gloaming, He saw two ghostly figures rise And quaff the beakers foaming; He heard two spirit voices call: "Fiducit, jovial brother!" And so forever from that hall Went they with one another. III. (Der Mann im Keller.) How cool and fair this cellar where My throne a dusky cask is! To do no thing but just to sing And drown the time my task is! The cooper, he's Resolved to please, And, answering to my winking, He fills me up Cup after cup For drinking, drinking, drinking. Begrudge me not this cozy spot In which I am reclining-- Why, who would burst with envious thirst When he can live by wining? A roseate hue seems to imbue The world on which I'm blinking; My fellow men--I love them when I'm drinking, drinking, drinking. And yet, I think, the more I drink, It's more and more I pine for-- Oh such as I (forever dry!) God made this land of Rhine for! And there is bliss In knowing this, As to the floor I'm sinking; I've wronged no man, And never can, While drinking, drinking, drinking! THE THREE TAILORS. (From the German of C. Herlossohn.) I shall tell you in rhyme how, once on a time, Three tailors tramped up to the Inn Ingleheim On the Rhine--lovely Rhine; They were broke, but, the worst of it all, they were curst With that malady common to tailors--a thirst For wine--lots of wine! "Sweet host," quoth the three, "we're as hard up as can be, Yet skilled in the practice of cunning are we On the Rhine--genial Rhine; And we pledge you we will impart you that skill Right quickly and fully, providing you'll fill Us with wine--cooling wine!" But that host shook his head, and warily said: "Though cunning be good, we take money instead, On the Rhine--thrifty Rhine; If ye fancy ye may without pelf have your way You'll find there's both host and the devil to pay For your wine--costly wine!" Then the first knavish wight took his needle so bright And threaded its eye with a wee ray of light From the Rhine--sunny Rhine; And in such a deft way patched a mirror that day That where it was mended no expert could say-- Done so fine--'twas for wine!