And woke a thrilling tone; The knights look'd on in knightly guise, Fair looks tow'rd earth were thrown. The monarch, ravish'd by the strain, Bade them bring forth a golden chain, To be his numbers' guerdon. "The golden chain give not to me, But give the chain to those In whose bold face we shiver'd see The lances of our foes. Or give it to thy chancellor there; With other burdens he may bear This one more golden burden. "I sing, like birds of blithesome note, That in the branches dwell; The song that rises from the throat Repays the minstrel well. One boon I'd crave, if not too bold-- One bumper in a cup of gold Be as my guerdon given." The bowl he raised, the bowl he quaff'd: "Oh drink, with solace fraught! Oh, house thrice-blest, where such a draught A trifling gift is thought! When Fortune smiles, remember me, And as I thank you heartily, As warmly thank ye Heaven!" 1795.* ----- BALLAD OF THE BANISHED AND RETURNING COUNT. [Goethe began to write an opera called Lowenstuhl, founded upon the old tradition which forms the subject of this Ballad, but he never carried out his design.] OH, enter old minstrel, thou time-honour'd one! We children are here in the hall all alone, The portals we straightway will bar. Our mother is praying, our father is gone To the forest, on wolves to make war. Oh sing us a ballad, the tale then repeat, 'Till brother and I learn it right; We long have been hoping a minstrel to meet, For children hear tales with delight. "At midnight, when darkness its fearful veil weaves, His lofty and stately old castle he leaves, But first he has buried his wealth. What figure is that in his arms one perceives, As the Count quits the gateway by stealth? O'er what is his mantle so hastily thrown? What bears he along in his flight? A daughter it is, and she gently sleeps on"-- The children they hear with delight. "The morning soon glimmers. the world is so wide, In valleys and forests a home is supplied, The bard in each village is cheer'd. Thus lives he and wanders, while years onward glide, And longer still waxes his beard; But the maiden so fair in his arms grows amain, 'Neath her star all-protecting and bright, Secured in the mantle from wind and from rain--" The children they hear with delight. "And year upon year with swift footstep now steals, The mantle it fades, many rents it reveals, The maiden no more it can hold. The father he sees her, what rapture he feels! His joy cannot now be controll'd. How worthy she seems of the race whence she springs, How noble and fair to the sight! What wealth to her dearly-loved father she brings!"-- The children they hear with delight. "Then comes there a princely knight galloping by, She stretches her hand out, as soon as he's nigh, But alms he refuses to give. He seizes her hand, with a smile in his eye: 'Thou art mine!' he exclaims, 'while I live!' 'When thou know'st,' cries the old man, 'the treasure that's there,