Pretty I am, pretty, and pretty is my name; they talk of great rabbis as matches for me. Rabbi's learning is very great, but I am a treasured rose of my mother's. A rose upon the roof, a clear night; water is in the room, wood is in the house,--If I love not a boy, I drive him away! Fish in the water, fritters in butter,--If a boy love me not, cursed be his mother! But such an exultation of free choice could be only passing, as the match was made without consulting her feelings in the matter; her greatest concern was that she might be left an old maid, while her companions passed into the ordained state of matrimony. Songs embodying this fear are quite common; the following is one of them: Sitz' ich mir auf'n Stēin, Nemmt mir ān a grōss Gewēin: Alle Maedlach hāben Chassene, Nor ich bleib' allēin. Oi wēh, Morgenstern! Wenn well ich a Kale wer'n, Zi heunt, zi morgen? A schoene Maedel bin ich doch Un' a reichen Taten hāb' ich doch! I sit upon a stone, and am seized by great weeping: all girls get married, but I remain single. Woe to me, morning star! When shall I become a bride, to-day or to-morrow? I surely am a pretty girl, and I have a rich father! In the more modern songs in which the word 'love' is used, that word represents the legitimate inclination for the opposite sex which culminates in marriage. Now that love and love matches are not uncommon, it is again woman who is the strongest advocate of them; love songs addressed by men to women are rare, and they may be recited with equal propriety by the latter. The chief characteristic of woman's love, as expressed in them, is constancy and depth of feeling. Schwarz bist du, schwarz, asō wie a Zigeuner, Ich hāb' gemēint, as du we'st sein meiner; Schwarz bist du, āber mit Cheen, Für wemen du bist mies, für mir bist du schoen; Schoen bist du wie Silber, wie Gold,-- Wer's hāt dich feind un' ich hāb' dich hold. Vun alle Fehlern känn a Doktor ābhēilen, Die Liebe vun mein Herzen känn ich var Kēinem nit derzaehlen. Black you are, black as a Gypsy, I thought you would always be mine; black you are, but with grace,--for others you may be homely, but for me you are handsome; handsome you are, like silver, like gold,--let others dislike you, but I love you. Of all troubles a doctor can cure, the love in my heart I can tell to no one. Many are the songs of pining for the distant lover; they show all the melancholy touches of similar Slavic love ditties, and are the most poetical of all the Jewish songs. They range from the soft regrets of the lover's temporary absence to the deep and gloomy despair of the betrothed one's death, though the latter is always tempered by a resignation which comes from implicit faith in the ways of Heaven. Here are a few of them in illustration of the various forms which this pining assumes: