ott het alle Minschen gihrn,
De Kinner doch am leevsten,
Druem wenn wi man wi Kinner wirn,
Denn har uns Gott am leevsten!
Oh, schlop, mihn lewes, luettes Kind,
Oh, schlop, und droehm recht schoen!"[55]

[Footnote 55:
Oh sleep! my darling baby, sleep!
And dream without a tear,
For loving angels round thee keep
Their watch, and God is near!
O baby mine,
Sweet dreams be thine!

If we as little children were
The Lord would love us best;
Of such he said, with tender care,
Is heaven's eternal rest!
O baby mine,
Sweet dreams be thine!

]

The queen laughed with delight. "That is a Mecklenburg _patois_ song,"
she exclaimed, "and yet how sweetly it sounds; how gentle and winning,
as though it were the language of the heart! My native country has
greeted me now with its most tender notes, with the song that the mother
sings to her children! Forward! I am also a child of Mecklenburg, and
long for my father's kiss and the embrace of my dear old grandmother!"

"There are the spires of a town in Mecklenburg! the spires of
Fuerstenberg!"

The carriage rolled through the gloomy old gate, and halted in front of
the palace.

"My father! My beloved father!"

"My daughter! My beloved Louisa! Welcome!--a thousand times welcome!"
They embraced each other and wept with joy. He is no duke, she is no
queen; he is a father, and she is his child!

From the arms of her father she sank into those of her brother--her
darling George. "Oh, thanks, dear father and brother, thanks for this
surprise! Now I shall have two hours of happiness more than I hoped for,
for I thought I would meet you only at Neustrelitz."

"Come now, my daughter, come; the horses are ready, and your old
grandmother is longing for you."

"Grandmamma, I am coming!" exclaimed the queen, and entered the carriage
as merrily as a light-hearted child. Her father and brother were at her
side, and the ladies of the queen took seats in the duke's coach.

"Forward, home!" Her hands clasping those of her father and her brother,
the queen rode across the meadows and waving fields. Was the death-worm
still at her heart? Which will triumph, that or the queen? She did
triumph for a season--for holy love conquers all, even death.

The face of the queen beamed with happiness. Smiles played upon her
lips; greetings flashed from her eyes to the people standing at the
roadside, an