Know’st thou still the olden story Of the snake in Paradise, Who, a cursed apple giving, Caused our parents endless sighs? Apples brought all evils on us, Death through Eve by apples came; Flames on Troy were brought by Eris,-- Both thou broughtest, death and flame! 7. Hill and castle fair are glancing O’er the clear and glassy Rhine, And my bark is gaily dancing In the sunlight all-divine. On the golden waters, breaking Sportively, my calm eyes rest; Gently are the feelings waking That I nourish’d in my breast. With a fond and kindly greeting, Lure me those deep waters bright, Yet I know their smoothness cheating Hides beneath it death and night. Joy above, below destruction,-- Thou’rt my loved one’s image, stream Blissful is her smile’s seduction, Kind and gentle can she seem. 8. First methought in my affliction, I can never stand the blow.-- Yet I did--strange contradiction! _How_ I did, ne’er seek to know. 9. With rose and cypress and tinsel gay, I fain would adorn in a charming way This book, as though a coffin it were, And in it my olden songs inter. O, could I but bury love also there! On love’s grave grows rest’s floweret fair; ’Tis there ’tis pluck’d in its sweetest bloom,-- For me ’twill not blossom till in my tomb. Here now are the songs that formerly rose, As wild as the lava from Etna that flows, From out the depths of my feelings true, And glittering sparks around them threw! Like corpses now lie they, all silent and dumb, And cold and pallid as mist they’ve become; But the olden glow their revival will bring When the spirit of love waves o’er them its wing. In my heart a presentiment loudly cries: The spirit of love will over them rise: This book will hereafter come to thy hand, My sweetest love, in a distant land. Then the spell on my song at an end will be, The pallid letters will gaze on thee, Imploringly gaze on thy beauteous eyes, And whisper with sadness and loving sighs. 3. ROMANCES. 1. THE MOURNFUL ONE. Every heart with pain is smitten When they see the stripling pale, Who upon his face bears written Grief and sorrow’s mournful tale. Breezes with compassion lightly Fan his burning brow the while, And his bosom many a sprightly Damsel fair would fain beguile. From the city’s ceaseless bustle To the wood for peace he flies. Merrily the leaves there rustle, Merrier still the bird’s songs rise. But the merry song soon ceases, Sadly rustle leaf and tree, When he, while his grief increases, Nears the forest mournfully. 2. THE MOUNTAIN ECHO.