Day and night alike the springtime Makes with sounding life all-teeming; Like a verdant echo can it Enter even in my dreaming. Then the birds sing yet more sweetly Than before, and softer breezes Fill the air, the violet’s fragrance With still wilder yearning pleases. E’en the roses blossom redder, And a child-like golden glory Bear they, like the heads of angels In the pictures of old story. And myself I almost fancy Some sweet nightingale, when singing Of my love to those fair roses, Wondrous songs my vision bringing-- Till I’m waken’d by the sunlight, Or by that delicious bustle Of the nightingales of springtime That before my window rustle. 37. Stars with golden feet are wand’ring Yonder, and they gently weep That they cannot earth awaken, Who in night’s arms is asleep. List’ning stand the silent forests, Every leaf an ear doth seem! How its shadowy arm the mountain Stretcheth out, as though in dream. What call’d yonder? In my bosom Rings the echo of the tone. Was it my beloved one speaking, Or the nightingale alone? 38. The spring is solemn, mournful only Are all its dreams, each flower appears Weigh’d down by grief, the song all-lonely Of Philomel wakes secret tears. O smile thou not, my darling beauty, O smile not, full of charming grace! But weep, that it may be my duty To kiss a tear from off thy face. 39. Once more from that fond heart I’m driven Which I so dearly love, so madly; Once more from that fond heart I’m driven-- Beside it would I linger gladly. The chariot rolls, the bridge is quaking, The stream beneath it flows so sadly; Once more the joys am I forsaking Of that fond heart I love so madly. In heav’n rush on the starry legions, As though before my sorrow flying-- Sweet one, farewell! in distant regions My heart for thee will still be sighing. 40. My cherish’d wishes blossom, And wither again at a breath, And blossom again and wither, And so on until death. This know I, and it saddens All love and joy, once so blest; My heart is so wise and witty, And bleeds away in my breast. 41. Like an old man’s face confounded Is the sky so broad and airy, Red, one-eyed, and close surrounded By the grey clouds’ locks all hairy When upon the earth it gazes, Flower and bud grow pale and sickly; Love and song in all their phases Fade away from men’s minds quickly. 42. With sullen thoughts in chilly bosom cherish’d, I travel sullen through the world so cold; The autumn’s end hath come, a humid mist doth hold Deep veil’d from sight the country drear and perish’d.