Art thinking of the friends whom yearning Impell’d to fall upon thy breast? Within the heart the thoughts were burning, And yet the lips remain’d at rest. Or of the sister and the mother Art thinking, who approved thy suit? Methinks within thy breast, good brother, Wild passions fast are growing mute. Of the fair garden art thou thinking, Its birds and trees, where love’s young dream Ofttimes sustain’d thy spirits sinking, And hope shone forth with trembling beam? ’Tis late. The snow has fallen thickly, Bright night illumes the humid mass; I now must go, and hasten quickly To dress for company,--Alas! 3. Of my fair fatherland I once was proud; Beside the stream The oak soar’d high, the violets gently bow’d; It was a dream. German the kisses were, in German too (Sweet then did seem The sound) they spake the words: “Yes, I love you!”-- It was a dream. 12. TRAGEDY 1. O fly with me, and be my wife, And to my heart for comfort come! Far, far away hence be my heart, Thy fatherland and father’s home. If thou’lt not go, I here will die, And all alone abandon thee; And if thou in thy father’s home Dost stay, thou’lt seem abroad to be. 2. A genuine national song, heard by Heine on the Rhine. There fell a frost in a night of spring, It fell on the tender flowerets blue, They all soon wither’d and faded. A youth once loved a maiden full well, They secretly fled away from the house, Unknown to father and mother. They wander’d here and they wander’d there, And neither joy nor star could they find, And so they droop’d and they perish’d. 3. Upon her grave a linden is springing, Where birds and the evening breeze are singing, And on the green sward under it The miller’s boy and his sweetheart sit. The winds are blowing so softly and fleetly, The birds are singing so sadly and sweetly, The prattling lovers are mute by-and-by, They weep and they know not the reason why. 13. THE TANNHAUSER. A LEGEND. (Written in 1836.) 1. O all good Christians, be on your guard, Lest Satan’s wiles ensnare you! I’ll sing you the song of the Tannhauser bold, That ye may duly beware you. The noble Tannhauser, a valiant knight, For love and pleasure yearning, To the Venus’ mount travell’d, and there he dwelt Seven years without returning. “Dear Venus, lovely mistress, farewell! “Though much thou mayst enchant me, “No longer will I tarry with thee, “Permission to leave now grant me.” “Tannhauser, dear and noble knight, “To-day you have kept from kissing; “So kiss me quickly and tell me true, “What is there in me you find missing?