To the mingled care they're given

Of the Styx and ether's might.

Half among the dead they're dwelling,

Half they touch the living land,

Unto me sweet tidings telling,

Voices from Cocytus' strand.

Though herself he captive holdeth

In the abyss of darkness drear,

From the buds that spring unfoldeth

Still her gentle words I hear,

That, though far from daylight's greeting,

Where the mournful shadows go,

Still with love the hearts are beating,

Warmly still the spirits glow.

Be ye welcomed then with pleasure,

Children of the meadow born,

I will fill your cups with treasure

Of the clearest dews of morn.

Ye shall bathe in sunbeams glowing

With the rainbow's purest light;

I will paint your petals, growing

Like Aurora, fair and bright.

In the spring-time's cheerful splendour,

In the autumn's faded leaf,

Readeth ev'ry bosom tender

All my joy and all my grief.

THE FISHER-BOY.

THE lake is asleep, and smiles in its sleeping,

The boy on the shore his rest is keeping,

He hears a ringing

Like flutes arise,

Like angels singing

In Paradise.

And when in his bliss he awakens from rest,

The wavelets are playing around his breast ;

It sounds from the waters,

'Fair boy, mine thou❜lt be;

I lure down the sleeper,

I draw him to me.'

DESIR E.

OH! from out this valley dreary,

By a chilly mist opprest,

Could I flee, though weak and weary,

Oh, how greatly I were blest!

Pleasant hills I see before me,

Ever young and green they lie;

Had I pinions that upbore me,
Swiftly to those hills I'd fly.

Thence harmonious music ringeth,

Peace like heaven, calm and sweet;

Balsam-laden odours bringeth

Unto me the zephyr fleet.

Golden fruits, their splendour glowing,

'Midst their glossy leaves display ;

And the flowers, that there are growing,

Ne'er become the winter's prey.

Ah! in sunshine bright, eternal,

Sweet must be to wander there;

And on yonder summit vernal,

Oh, how pure must be the air!