In my remembrance blossom The images long forsaken-- Within thy voice what is there By which so deeply I’m shaken? Say not that thou dost love me! I know that earth’s fairest treasure, Sweet love and happy spring time, ’Twould shame beyond all measure. Say not that thou dost love me! A silent kiss I’ll bestow thee; Then smile, when I to-morrow The withered roses show thee. 31. “Linden blossoms drunk with moonlight “Fly about in fragrant showers, “And the nightingale’s sweet music “Fills the air and leafy bowers. “Ah! how sweet it is, my loved one, “‘Neath these lindens to be sitting, “When the glimm’ring golden moonbeams “Through the fragrant leaves are flitting. “If thou lookest on the lime-leaf, “Thou a heart’s form wilt discover; “Therefore are the lindens ever “Chosen seats of each fond lover. “Yet thou smilest, as though buried “In far distant visions yearning-- “Speak, belovèd, all the wishes “That in thy dear heart are burning.” Ah, my darling! I will tell thee Whence my thoughts proceed, and whither: Fain I’d see the chilly north-wind Sudden bring white snowstorms hither. So that we, with furs well cover’d, And in gaudy sledges riding, Cracking whips, with bells loud ringing, Might o’er stream and plain be gliding. 32. Through the forest, in the moonlight, I the elves saw riding proudly; And I heard their trumpets sounding, And I hear their bells ring loudly. Their white horses had upon them Golden staghorns, whilst proceeding Swiftly on--like flights of wild swans Through the air the train was speeding. Smilingly the queen bent tow’rds me, Smiling, as the band rode by me; Is’t a sign that new love’s coming, Or a sign that death is nigh me? 33. In the morning send I violets, Early in the wood discover’d, And at evening bring I roses Pluck’d while twilight’s hour still hover’d. Knowest thou the hidden language By these lovely flowerets spoken? Truth by day-time, love at night-time-- ’Tis of this that they’re the token! 34. Thy letter, sent to prove me, Inflicts no sense of wrong; No longer wilt thou love me,-- Thy letter, though, is long. Twelve sides, to tell thy views all! A manuscript, in fact! In giving a refusal Far otherwise we act. 35. Care not, if my love I’m telling Unto all the world around, When my mouth, thy beauty praising, Full of metaphor is found. Underneath a wood of flowers, Lies in shelter safe below, All that deep and glowing secret, All that deep and secret glow. If suspicious sparks should issue From the roses,--fearless be! This dull world in flames believes not, But believes them poetry. 36.