Werner did as he was counselled. An old tower was there standing By the shore, half in the river; And where through a secret wicket To the strand came down the fisher, Was a quiet hidden inlet, Where lay boat and rudder ready. As the boatman kept the feast-day, So without permission Werner Took possession of the boat there. In the meantime evening crept on: Here and there rang from the mountains Clear and sharp, a shouting from some Tipsy peasant going homeward. O'er those distant pine-tree forests Streamed the moonlight through the valley; Bashfully some stars already From the clear blue sky were peeping. From the shore shoved off young Werner. As a horse, when in his stable Long imprisoned, gaily prances, Neighs with joy, when he can carry Through the fields again his master: So shot boldly swiftly downward, On the water gaily bounding, The light boat, and speeding onward Passed the walls of the old city. Soon it gained the ancient Rhine bridge, Which with timber-covered arches Boldly spans from shore to shore. And courageously young Werner Steered right through below the third pier, Laughing, when, as if to vex him, Three times up and three times downward Danced his boat, seized by the whirlpool Soon he now beheld the castle With its gable-roofs and turrets, Shining through the lofty chestnuts, All illumined by the moonlight. Yonder rose up from the river By the shore a bank of gravel, Bare and barren; it was often Flooded over by the river. Out of fun the country people Called it field of Fridolinus. Thither now the frail boat drifted; There it halted on the shelving Pebbly ground. Out jumped young Werner, And he looked with eager glances Whether he could not descry her. He could only see a distant Twinkling light up in the turret; But this wholly satisfied him. Often doth a distant vision More delight bestow upon us Than the fulness of possession; Hence our Song dwells on his pleasure, As he stands there on the sand-bank At that light in rapture gazing. Spread before his dreamy eyes lay Rosy visions of the future; Neither sun nor stars shone in them, Nothing but that light's faint glimmer. From the turret, where it flickered, Love flew forth, on rapid pinions, Noiselessly to him descended, And unseen stood there beside him On the field of Fridolinus; And he handed him the trumpet Which from Werner's neck was hanging, Saying: Blow your trumpet, blow it!