28. I dreamt: the quivering moon gleam’d above, And the stars cast a mournful ray; I was borne to the town where dwelleth my love, Many hundred miles away And when I arrived at her dwelling so blest, I kiss’d the stones of the stair, Which her little foot so often had press’d, And the train of her garment fair. The night was long, the night was chill, And cold were the stones that night; Her pallid form from the window-sill Look’d down in the moonbeam’s light. 29. What means this tear all-lonely That troubles now my gaze? Of olden times the offspring Still in mine eye it stays. It had its shining sisters, Who all have faded from sight, With all my joys and sorrows, Yea, faded in storm and night. Like clouds have also fleeted The stars so blue and mild, Which into my yearning bosom Those joys and sorrows once smiled. Ah! even my love’s devotion Like idle breath did decay; Thou old, old tear all-lonely, Do thou, too, pass away! 30. The pallid autumnal half-moon Looks down from the clouds on high; The parsonage, silent and lonely, By the side of the churchyard doth lie. The mother is reading her Bible, The son on the light turns his eyes, All-sleepy, the elder daughter Doth stretch, while the younger thus cries: “Good heavens, how dreadfully tedious “The days are! I’m quite in despair! “’Tis only when there’s a burial “One sees aught of life, I declare! The mother then says, midst her reading: “You’re mistaken, four only have died “Since the time when they buried your father “By the gate of the churchyard outside.” The elder daughter says gaping: “I’ll starve no longer with you; “I’ll go to the Count to-morrow, “He’s rich and he loves me too.” The son bursts out into laughter: “At the tavern drink huntsmen three; “They’re making money, and gladly “Would teach the secret to me.” The mother then throws her Bible Full hard in his lanky face: “Wouldst thou dare, thou accursed of heaven, “As a robber thy friends to disgrace?” They hear a knock at the window, And see a beckoning hand; And behold, outside the dead father In his black preaching-garment doth stand. 31. The weather is bad and stormy, With rain and tempest and snow; I sit at the window, gazing On the gloomy darkness below. One single light I see glimm’ring That slowly moves in the street; ’Tis a woman holding a lantern, And walking with tottering feet. I expect that she’s making a purchase Of meal and butter and eggs; ’Tis to bake a cake for her daughter That she is out now on her legs.