"And what know these trees, with their sighing,
Of an older, a lovelier day?
Alas, o'er yon blue mountains lying,
Thy home is so far, far away!
"The stars in their courses I treasure,
My pathway to her they shone o'er;
The nightingale's song gives me pleasure,
It sang nigh my dearest one's door.
"When starlight and dawn are contending,
I climb to the mountain-tops clear;
Thence gazing, my greeting I'm sending
To Germany, ever most dear."
It seemed as if the post-horn in the distance would fain accompany
my song. While I was singing, it came nearer and nearer among the
mountains, until at last I heard it in the castle court-yard; I got
down from the tree as quickly as possible, in time to meet the old
woman with an opened packet coming toward me. "Here is something too
for you," she said, and handed me a neat little note. It was without
address; I opened it hastily, and on the instant flushed as red as a
peony, and my heart beat so violently that the old woman observed my
agitation. The note was from--my Lady fair, whose handwriting I had
often seen at the bailiff's. It was short: "All is well once more; all
obstacles are removed. I take a private opportunity to be the first to
write you the good news. Come, hasten back. It is so lonely here, and
I can scarcely bear to live since you left us. Aurelia."
As I read, my eyes grew dim with rapture, alarm, and ineffable
delight.
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