Say, what tender thoughts are pining In the softly blooming spirits Of these snowy young bear-virgins? Moist with tears their eyes are glist’ning. Most of all appears the youngest Deeply moved. Within her bosom She a blissful twinge is feeling, And to Cupid’s might succumbs she. Yes, that little god’s sharp arrow Through her thick skin penetrated When she saw Him--O, good heavens Him she loves, a living man is! Is a man, yclept Schnapphahnski;-- Whilst before his foes retreating He arrived by chance one morning At the mountain in his flight. Woes of heroes touch all women, And within our hero’s features Were depicted want of money, Pale distress and gloomy sorrow. All his military chest, Two-and-twenty silver groschen, Which he had when Spain he enter’d, Was the prey of Espartero. E’en his watch was not preserved him, But remain’d at Pampeluna In a pawn-shop. ’Twas an heirloom, Costly and of genuine silver. And with long legs swiftly ran he, But unconsciously whilst running Won he something that’s far better Than the best of fights,--a heart! Yes, she loves him, him, the archfoe! O thou most unhappy bearess! If thy father knew the secret, He would growl in frightful fashion. As the aged Odoardo[36] Stabb’d Emilia Galotti In his pride of citizenship, So would also Atta Troll Sooner have destroy’d his daughter, Yes, with his own paws destroy’d her Than permitted her to tumble In the arms of any monarch Yet he at this very moment Is of tender disposition, With no wish to crush a rosebud Ere the hurricane has stripp’d it.[37] Tenderly lies Atta Troll In the cavern, by his young ones. O’er him creep, like death’s forebodings, Mournful yearnings for the future. “Children,” sigh’d he, as his great eyes “Suddenly ’gan dripping, “children, “All my earthly pilgrimage “Is accomplish’d, we must part now. “For to-day at noon whilst sleeping “Came a vision full of meaning, “And my soul enjoy’d the blissful “Foretaste of an early death. “Now, I’m far from superstitious, “I’m no giddy bear,--yet are there “Certain things ’twixt earth and heaven “Unaccountable to thinkers. “Over world and fate whilst poring, “Fell I fast asleep, with yawning, “And I dreamt that I was lying “Underneath a mighty tree. “From the branches of this tree there “Trickled down some whitish honey, “Gliding in my open muzzle, “And I felt a sweet enjoyment. “As I blissfully peer’d upwards, “Saw I on the very tree-top “Seven tiny little bears “Sliding up and down the branches. “Tender, pretty little creatures, “With a skin of rose-red colour, “While, like silk, from their dear shoulders “Hung a something, like two pinions.