Was die Biene für die Blume. Was die Biene für die Blume, In des Kelches Heiligthume, Das bin dir ich, Liebchen traut! Sie. — Was das Ufergrün den Wellen Sie. Doch die Schwärm'rin Biene fliehet, Er. Bächlein treulos weiter ziehet · Nein, wenn welken will die Blume, Schwinden will das Ufergrün, Gereicht es Bien' und Bach zum Ruhme, Zu kosen fie, so lang fie blühn. I SAW FROM THE BEACH. I saw from the beach, when the morning was shining, A bark o'er the waters move gloriously on; I came when the sun o'er that beach was declining, The bark was still there, but the waters were gone. And such is the fate of our life's early promise, So passing the spring-tide of joy we have known; Each wave, that we danc'd on at morning, ebbs from us, And leaves us, at eve, on the bleak shore alone. Ne'er tell me of glories, serenely adorning The close of our day, the calm eve of our night; Give me back, give me back the wild freshness of Morning, Her clouds and her tears are worth Evening's best light. Oh! who would not welcome that moment's returning, When passion first wak'd a new life thro' his frame, And his soul, like the wood, that grows precious in bur ning, Gave out all its sweets to love's exquisite flame. Ich sah vom Gestad'. Ich sah vom Gestad', in des Morgenlichts Prangen, So schwindet der Jugendverheißungen Sonn' uns, O! sprich nicht von Kränzen, die heiter uns schmücken Wer hieße nicht wieder die Stunde willkommen, Da erste Begeist'rung ihn heilig durchglüht, Und das Herz — gleich dem duftenden Holz, wenn ent glommen, Sein Süßstes in Flammen der Liebe versprüht! THO' THE LAST GLIMPSE OF ERIN WITH SORROW I SEE. Tho' the last glimpse of Erin with sorrow I see, To the gloom of some desert or cold rocky shore, Where the eye of the stranger can haunt us no more, I will fly with my Coulin, and think the rough wind Less rude than the foes we leave frowning behind. And I'll gaze on thy gold hair as graceful it wreathes, One chord from that harp, or one lock from that hair. 13) Ob ich kummervoll scheide von Erin, so grün. Ob ich kummervoll scheide von Erin, so grün, Laß flieh'n uns zu Küsten voll Nacht und voll Grau'n, Ich schau deiner Goldlocken anmuthig Wall'n, |