Which was ascended by steps of rough flat pieces constructed. And within it were hanging fine chasselas and muscatels also, And a reddish-blue grape, of quite an exceptional bigness, All with carefulness planted, to give to their guests after dinner. But with separate stems the rest of the vineyard was planted, Smaller grapes producing, from which the finest wine made is. So she constantly mounted, enjoying in prospect the autumn. And the festal day, when the neighbourhood met with rejoicing, Picking and treading the grapes, and putting the must in the wine-vats, Every corner and nook resounding at night with the fireworks, Blazing and cracking away, due honour to pay to the harvest. But she uneasy became, when she in vain had been calling Twice and three times her son, and when the sole answer that reach'd her Came from the garrulous echo which out of the town towers issued. Strange it appear'd to have to seek him; he never went far off, (As he before had told her) in order to ward off all sorrow From his dear mother, and her forebodings of coming disaster. But she still was expecting upon the highway to find him, For the doors at the bottom, like those at the top, of the vineyard Stood wide open; and so at length she enter'd the broad field Which, with its spreading expanse, o'er the whole of the hill's back extended. On their own property still she proceeded, greatly rejoicing At their own crops, and at the corn which nodded so bravely, Over the whole field in golden majesty waving. Then on the border between the fields she follow'd the footpath, Keeping her eye on the pear-tree fix'd, the big one, which standing Perch'd by itself on the top of the hill, their property bounded. Who had planted it, no one knew; throughout the whole country Far and wide was it visible; noted also its fruit was. Under its shadow the reaper ate his dinner at noonday, And the herdsman was wont to lie, when tending his cattle. Benches made of rough stones and of turf were placed all about it. And she was not mistaken; there sat her Hermann and rested On his arm he was leaning, and seem'd to be looking cross country Tow'rds the mountains beyond; his back was turn'd to his mother. Softly creeping up, she lightly tapp'd on his shoulder; And he hastily turn'd; she saw that his eyes full of tears were. "Mother," he said in confusion:--"You greatly surprise me!" and quickly Wiped he away his tears, the noble and sensitive youngster. "What! You are weeping, my son?" the startled mother continued "That is indeed unlike you! I never before saw you crying! Say, what has sadden'd your heart? What drives you to sit here all lonely Under the shade of the pear-tree? What is it that makes you unhappy?"