YOUTH Mood of youth, Mood of youth, Eagle-like must seek the blue, Dauntlessly its course pursue, All the mountain-heights must view. Blood of youth, Blood of youth, Steam-like puts full-speed to sea, E'en though storm and ice there be, Makes its way and romps in glee. Dream of youth, Dream of youth, Rogue-like stealing sets its snare In the maiden's morning-prayer; All the springtime, fragrant, glowing, In its airy waves is flowing. Joy of youth, Joy of youth, Waterfall-like foams in truth, Laughing, rainbow-gifts forth flashing, Even while to death 't is dashing. Joy of youth, Dream of youth, Blood of youth, Mood of youth, Clothe the world with colors golden, Singing songs that never olden. THE BLONDE MAIDEN Though _she_ depart, a vision flitting, If I these thoughts in words exhale: I love you, you blonde maiden, sitting Within your pure white beauty's veil. I love you for your blue eyes dreaming, Like moonlight moving over snow, And 'mid the far-off forests beaming On something hid I may not know. I love this forehead's fair perfection Because it stands so starry-clear, In flood of thought sees its reflection And wonders at the image near. I love these locks in riot risen Against the hair-net's busy bands; To free them from their pretty prison Their sylphs entice my eyes and hands. I love this figure's supple swinging In rhythm of its bridal song, Of strength and life-joy daily singing With youthful yearnings deep and long. I love this foot so lightly bearing The glory of sure victory Through youth's domain of merry daring To meet first-love that hers shall be. I love these hands, these lips enchanting, With them the God of love's allied, With them the apple-prize is granting, But guards them, too, lest aught betide. I love you and must say it ever, Although you heed not what you've heard, But flee and answer: maidens never May put their trust in poet's word. THE FIRST MEETING (FROM THE FISHER MAIDEN) The first fond meeting holy Is like the woodbirds' trilling, Is like a sea-song thrilling, When red the sun sinks slowly,-- Is like a horn on mountain, That wakes time's sleep thereunder And summons to life's fountain To meet in nature's wonder. GOOD-MORNING (FROM THE FISHER MAIDEN) Day's coming up now, joy's returned, Sorrow's dark cloud-castles captured and burned; Over the mountain-tops glowing Light-king his armies is throwing. "Up now, up now!" calls the bird, "Up now, up now!" child-voice heard, Up now my hope in sunshine. " MY FATHERLAND (FROM THE FISHER MAIDEN)