A ring of gold she gave me,
And vowed she would be true;
The vow long since was broken,
The gold ring snapped in two.
I would I were a minstrel,
To rove the wide world o'er,
And sing afar my measures,
And rove from door to door;
Or else a soldier, flying
Deep into furious fight,
By silent camp-fires lying
A-field in gloomy night.
Hear I the mill-wheel going:
I know not what I will;
'Twere best if I were dying--
Then all were calm and still.
[Illustration: JOSEPH VON EICHENDORFF]
* * * * *
MORNING PRAYER[36] (1833)
O silence, wondrous and profound!
O'er earth doth solitude still reign;
The woods alone incline their heads,
As if the Lord walked o'er the plain.
I feel new life within me glow;
Where now is my distress and care?
Here in the blush of waking morn,
I blush at yesterday's despair.
To me, a pilgrim, shall the world,
With all its joy and sorrows, be
But as a bridge that leads, O Lord,
Across the stream of time to Thee.
And should my song woo worldly gifts,
The base rewards of vanity--
Dash down my lyre! I'll hold my peace
Before thee to eternity.
FROM THE LIFE OF A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING (1826)
BY JOSEPH VON EICHENDORFF TRANSLATED BY MRS. A.L.W. WISTER
CHAPTER I
The wheel of my father's mill was once more turning and whirring
merrily, the melting snow trickled steadily from the roof, the
sparrows chirped and hopped about, as I, taking great delight in the
warm sunshine, sat on the door-step and rubbed my eyes to rid them
of sleep.
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