"I have taken you for my sons," said he to the young Princes, as he once stood with them on the hill before the Castle; "your happiness must now be my posterity; when dead, I shall still live in your joy." They lay down on the slope, from which the fair country was visible for many a league; and here Eckart had to guard himself from speaking of his children; for they seemed as if coming towards him from the distant mountains, while he heard afar off a lovely sound. "Comes it not like dreams Stealing o'er the vales and streams? Out of regions far from this, Like the song of souls in bliss?" This to the youths did Eckart say, And caught the sound from far away; And as the magic tones came nigher, A wicked strange desire Awakens in the breasts of these pure boys, That drives them forth to seek for unknown joys. "Come, let's to the fields, to the meadows and mountains, The forests invite us, the streams and the fountains; Soft voices in secret for loitering chide us, Away to the Garden of Pleasure they'll guide us." The Player comes in foreign guise, Appears before their wondering eyes; And higher swells the music's sound, And brighter glows the emerald ground; The flowers appear as drunk, Twilight red has on them sunk; And through the green grass play, with airy lightness, Soft, fitful, blue and golden streaks of brightness. Like a shadow, melts and flits away All that bound men to this world of clay; In Earth all toil and tumult cease, Like one bright flower it blooms in peace; The mountains rock in purple light, The valleys shout as with delight; All rush and whirl in the music's noise, And long to share of these offer'd joys; The soul of man is allured to gladness, And lies entranced in that blissful madness. The Trusty Eckart felt it, But wist not of the cause; His heart the music melted, He wondered what it was. The world seems new and fairer, All blooming like the rose; Can Eckart be a sharer In raptures such as those? "Ha! Are those tones restoring My wife and bonny sons? All that I was deploring, My lost beloved ones?" Yet soon his sense collected Brought doubt within his breast; These hellish arts detected, A horror him possessed. And now he sees the raging Of his young princes dear; Themselves to Hell engaging, His voice no more they hear. And forth, in wild commotion, They rush, not knowing where; In tumult like the ocean, When mad his billows are. Then, as these things assail'd him, He wist not what to do; His knighthood almost fail'd him Amid that hellish crew. Then to his soul appeareth The hour the Duke did die; His friend's faint prayer he heareth, He sees his fading eye.