No. 19. With so sweet a promise given All my bosom burneth; Hope uplifts my heart to heaven, Yet the doubt returneth, Lest perchance that hope should be Crushed and shattered suddenly. On one girl my fancy so, On one star, reposes; Her sweet lips with honey flow And the scent of roses: In her smile I laugh, and fire Fills me with her love's desire. Love in measure over-much Strikes man's soul with anguish; Anxious love's too eager touch Makes man fret and languish: Thus in doubt and grief I pine; Pain more sure was none than mine. Burning in love's fiery flood, Lo, my life is wasted! Such the fever of my blood That I scarce have tasted Mortal bread and wine, but sup Like a god love's nectar-cup. The village dance forms an important element in the pleasures of the season. Here is a pretty picture in two stanzas of a linden sheltering some Suabian meadow. THE VILLAGE DANCE. No. 20. Wide the lime-tree to the air Spreads her boughs and foliage fair; Thyme beneath is growing On the verdant meadow-where Dancers' feet are going. Through the grass a little spring Runs with jocund murmuring; All the place rejoices; Cooling zephyrs breathe and sing With their summer voices. I have freely translated a second, which presents a more elaborate picture of a similar scene. LOVE AMONG THE MAIDENS. No. 21. Yonder choir of virgins see Through the spring advancing, Where the sun's warmth, fair and free, From the green leaves glancing, Weaves a lattice of light gloom And soft sunbeams o'er us, 'Neath the linden-trees in bloom, For the Cyprian chorus. In this vale where blossoms blow, Blooming, summer-scented, 'Mid the lilies row by row, Spreads a field flower-painted. Here the blackbirds through the dale Each to each are singing, And the jocund nightingale Her fresh voice is flinging. See the maidens crowned with rose Sauntering through the grasses! Who could tell the mirth of those Laughing, singing lasses? Or with what a winning grace They their charms discover, Charms of form and blushing face, To the gazing lover? Down the flowery greenwood glade As I chanced to wander, From bright eyes a serving-maid Shot Love's arrows yonder; I for her, 'mid all the crew Of the girls of Venus, Wait and yearn until I view Love spring up between us. Another lyric of complicated rhyming structure introduces a not dissimilar motive, with touches that seem, in like manner, to indicate its German origin. It may be remarked that the lover's emotion has here unusual depth, a strain of _sehnsucht_; and the picture of the mother followed by her daughter in the country-dance suggests the domesticity of Northern races. AT THE VILLAGE DANCE.