Today his knife he'll whet,
'Twill cut far better yet;
Soon he will come and mow,
And we must bear the woe--
Beware, fair flower!
The flowers fresh and green today,
Tomorrow will be mowed away
Narcissus so white,
The meadows' delight,
The hyacinthias pale
And morning-glories frail--
Beware, fair flower!
Full many thousand blossoms blithe
Must fall beneath his deadly scythe:
Roses and lilies pure,
Your end is all too sure!
Imperial lilies rare
He will not spare--
Beware, fair flower!
The bluet wee, of heaven's hue,
The tulips white and yellow too,
The dainty silver bell,
The golden phlox as well--
All sink upon the earth.
Oh, what a sorry dearth!
Beware, fair flower!
Sweet lavender of lovely scent,
And rosemary, dear ornament,
Sword-lilies proud, unfurled,
And basil, quaintly curled,
And fragile violet blue--
He soon will seize you too!
Beware, fair flower!
Death, I defy thee! Hasten near
With one great sweep--I have no fear!
Though hurt, I'll stay undaunted,
For I shall be transplanted
Into the garden by heaven's gate,
The heavenly garden we all await.
Rejoice, fair flower!
_JACOB AND WILHELM GRIMM_
* * * * *
FAIRY TALES[8] (1812)
TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY MARGARET HUNT
THE FROG-KING, OR IRON HENRY
In old times, when wishing still helped one, there lived a king whose
daughters were all beautiful, but the youngest was so beautiful that
the sun itself, which has seen so much, was astonished whenever it
shone in her face.
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