Stained with blood and never tiring, From the cross 't would free the Saviour, And the Saviour speaks in mildness: "Blest be thou of all the good! Bear, as token of this moment, Marks of blood and holy rood!" And that bird is called the crossbill; In the groves of pine it singeth Songs, like legends, strange to hear. THE SEA HATH ITS PEARLS. FROM THE GERMAN OF HEINRICH HEINE. THE sea hath its pearls, The heaven hath its stars; But my heart, my heart, My heart hath its love. Great are the sea and the heaven; Yet greater is my heart, And fairer than pearls and stars Flashes and beams my love. Thou little, youthful maiden, My heart, and the sea, and the heaven |