gather, the damsel walks to and fro on the green of the shore; the
wave breaks with might, with might, and she sings out into the dark
night, her eye discolored with weeping: the heart is dead, the world
is empty, and further gives it nothing more to the wish. Thou Holy
One, call thy child home. I have enjoyed the happiness of this
world, I have lived and have loved.
I cannot but add here an imitation of this song, with which my
friend, Charles Lamb, has favored me, and which appears to me to
have caught the happiest manner of our old ballads:-
The clouds are blackening, the storms are threatening,
The cavern doth mutter, the greenwood moan!
Billows are breaking, the damsel's heart aching,
Thus in the dark night she singeth alone,
He eye upward roving:
The world is empty, the heart is dead surely,
In this world plainly all seemeth amiss;
To thy heaven, Holy One, take home thy little one.
I have partaken of all earth's bliss,
Both living and loving.
[13] There are few who will not have taste enough to laugh at the
two concluding lines of this soliloquy: and still fewer, I would
fain hope, who would not have been more disposed to shudder, had I
given a faithful translation. For the readers of German I have
added the originaclass="underline" -
Blind-wuethend schleudert selbst der Gott der Freude
Den Pechkranz in das brennende Gebaeude.