NICOLAUS LENAU. [1802 - 1850.] THE GIPSIES. THREE gipsy men I once did see Beneath a tree together, As my waggon wearily Crept o'er sandy heather. And his fiddle one did hold, From his comrades straying, In the glowing sunset's gold Fiery ditties playing. And his pipe the second bore, Watched the smoke that speeded Free, as though on earth no more He for gladness needed. And, his lute hung on a tree, Lay the third one sleeping; O'er the string the breezes free, Dreams his heart o'ersweeping. Rents did all their garments show, Gaily hued and tattered, Yet they faced the world as though Fortune little mattered. Threefold thus of life did they Show how light we prize it, Fiddle, smoke, and sleep all day, And three times despise it. Many a time I gazed around At those three together, At those faces deeply browned, And locks like raven's feather. SEDGE SONG. MOONLIGHT calm and still reposes On the waveless lake beneath, Weaving all its pallid roses In the sedges' verdant wreath. Deer upon the hill-side yonder, Out into the darkness gaze, Dreamily the wild-fowl wander, Rustling through the reedy maze. Tears my downcast eyes are filling, In my deepest soul I bear Thoughts of thee, my spirit thrilling Like a silent midnight prayer. Σ ANNETTE VON DROSTE HÜLFSHOF. [1798-1848.] THE MERCHANT'S WIFE. A CERTAIN merchant had a wife, He deemed was nigh too soft and mild, Too gentle for this daily life; Too like the moonbeams when she smiled, As through the house he watched her go, All shadow-like with noiseless tread. He strove, as with an unseen foe, |