Thus to his youthful brood doth speak The sparrow in his oaken nest; His mate pips, while she trims her beak, And proudly sits and looks her best. She is a homely wife and kind, Broods well, and ne’er is seen to pout; The father makes his children find Pastime in studying things devout. 10. The warm and balmy spring-night’s air Hath waken’d every flower, And take I not the greatest care, My heart must succumb to love’s power. But which of all the flowery throng Is likely most to snare me? The nightingales say, in their blissful song Of the lily I ought to beware me. 11. I’m sore perplex’d, the bells are ringing, And by my senses I feel forsaken; The spring and two fair eyes together Against my heart an oath have taken. The spring and two fair eyes together Lure on my heart to a new illusion; Methinks the nightingales and roses Have much to do with all my confusion. 12. Ah! I yearn for tears all-burning, Tears of love and gentle woe, And I tremble lest this yearning At the last should overflow. Ah! love’s pangs, that sweetly languish, And love’s bitter joy, so blest, Creep again, with heavenly anguish, Into my scarce healèd breast. 13. The eyes of spring, so azure, Are peeping from the ground; They are the darling violets, That I in nosegays bound. I pluck them, thinking deeply, And all the thoughts so dear, That in my heart are sighing, The nightingale sings clear. Yes, all my thoughts she singeth And warbleth, echoing far; So that my tender secrets Known to the whole wood are. 14. When thy dress doth gently touch me, As thou pass’st before my face, How my heart exults, how wildly Follows it thy lovely trace! Then thou turnest round and gazest With thy large bright eyes on me, And my heart doth feel so startled, That it scarce can follow thee. 15. The slender water-lily Peeps dreamingly out of the lake; The moon, oppress’d with love’s sorrow, Looks tenderly down for her sake. With blushes she bends to the water Once more her head so sweet-- Then sees she the poor pale fellow Lying before her feet. 16. If thou hast good eyes, and look’st In my songs, when thou hast tried them, Thou wilt see a fair young maiden Wandering up and down inside them. If thou hast good ears as well, Thou canst hear her voice quite clearly, And her sighing, laughing, singing Thy poor heart will madden nearly. For she will, with look and word, Thee, like me, make wellnigh crazy: An enamour’d springtime-dreamer Thou wilt tread the forest mazy. 17.