Two bells resounded shrilly,

The dream that instant fled:

She lay in convent stilly,

He in a dungeon dread.

THE SERENADE.

'WHAT strains of music sweet and clear

Rouse me from slumber deep?

Oh, mother! see who it may be,

Now all around doth sleep.'

'Nothing I hear, I nothing see,

Oh slumber soft again!

No love-songs now are sung to thee,

Left fading in thy pain.'

'It is no earthly melody

Fills me with joy so bright;

Angels are calling me with song :

O mother dear, good-night.'

J. O. L.

THE SHEPHERD'S SABBATH SONG.

IT is the Sabbath-day,

Alone upon the plain I stand;

One matin-bell rings o'er the land,

Then silence holdeth sway.

I pray on bended knee,

Oh terror sweet! oh secret fear!

As though unseen were many here

To kneel and pray with me.

The heavens ev'ry way,

In such a holy quiet lie,

As though their op'ning must be nigh:

This is the Sabbath-day.

PARTIN G.

WHAT ringeth and singeth adown the street?

Come, open your windows, ye maidens sweet!

A youth leaves the town to-day,

His comrades they show him the way.

The others in mirth fling their caps in the air,

All decked with ribbons and flowers fair;

But the youth he loves not the revels gay,

And pale and silent goes on his way.

The goblets are ringing, high sparkles the wine,

'Drink once and again, dearest brother of mine,

With the parting cup can but flee

What burneth and gloweth in me.'

And there at the last house of all the street,

Looked out of her window a maiden sweet;

She sought to hide that her eyes were wet,
Behind the roses and mignonette.

And there, at the last house of all the street,
The youth looked up with a gesture fleet,

And sadly looked down again,

His hand on his heart as in pain.

'Dear brother, and hast thou no posy fair?

Full many a flower is blossoming there.'

'Arise! thou fairest of all,

And quickly a posy let fall.'

'Dear brothers, what use were the posy to me?

I have no true-love, so fair to see;

It would fade in the sun's burning ray,

And the wind would bear it away.'

And farther and farther, with cheer and song,

And the maiden listens, and listens long.

'Alas that the youth must depart,

Whom I loved in my secret heart!

'And here I stand with this love of mine,

With mignonette and with roses fine,

And he on whom I'd all bestow

So gladly, far from me must go.'