Beyond, in pleasing confusion, In distant and chequer’d array, Are men, and villas, and gardens, And cattle, woods, meadows so gay. The maidens are bleaching the linen, And spring on the grass, like deer The mill-wheel’s powd’ring diamonds, Its distant murmur I hear. Beside the old grey tower A sentry-box is set; A red-accoutred fellow Walks up and down there yet. He’s playing with his musket, While gleameth the sun o’erhead; He first presents and shoulders-- I would that he’d shoot me dead! 4. With tears through the forest I wander, The throstle’s sitting on high; She, springing, sings softly yonder: O wherefore dost thou sigh? “Sweet bird, thy sister the swallow “Can tell thee the cause of my gloom; “She dwells in a nest all hollow, “Beside my sweetheart’s room.” 5. The night is damp and stormy, No star is in the sky; In the wood, ’neath the rustling branches In silence wander I. A distant light is twinkling From the hunter’s lonely cot; But within, the scene is but saddening, And the light can allure me not. The blind old grandmother’s sitting In her leather elbow-chair, All-gloomily fix’d like a statue, Not a word escapeth her there. With curses to and fro paces The forester’s red-headed son; With fury and scorn he’s laughing, As he throws ’gainst the wall his gun. The fair spinning-maiden’s weeping, And moistens the flax with her tears; The father’s terrier, whining, Curl’d up at her feet appears. 6. When I, on my travels, by hazard, My sweetheart’s family found, Her sister and father and mother,-- They gave me a welcome all round. When they for my health had inquired, They added, all of a breath, That they thought me quite unalter’d, Though my face was pale as death. I ask’d for their aunts and their cousins, And many a tiresome friend; I ask’d for the little puppy Whose soft bark knew no end. And then for my married sweetheart I ask’d, as if just call’d to mind, And they answer’d, in friendly fashion, That she had but just been confin’d. I gave them my very best wishes, And lovingly begg’d them apart That they’d give her a thousand greetings From the bottom of my heart. Then cried the little sister: “The small and gentle hound Grew to be big and savage, And in the Rhine was drown’d.” That little one’s like my sweetheart, _So_ like when she wears a smile! Her eyes are the same as her sister’s Which caus’d all my mis’ry the while. 7. We sat by the fisherman’s cottage, O’er ocean cast our eye; Then came the mists of evening, And slowly rose on high.