. The shady trees, the meadows, and the streams which
ran round it, and through it, made it look beautiful ... the
celestial Rosemund had taken up her abode in a little shepherd
hut on the slope of a little hill by a water-course, and shaded
by some lime trees, in which the birds paid her homage morning
and evening.... Such a place and such solitude refreshed the more
than human Rosemund, and in such peace she was able to unravel
her confused thoughts.

She thought continually of Markhold, and spent her time cutting his
name in the trees. The following description of a walk with her
sister Stillmuth and her lover Markhold, gives some idea of the
formal affected style of the time.

The day was fine, the sky blue, the weather everywhere warm. The
sun shone down on the globe with her pleasant lukewarm beams so
pleasantly, that one scarcely cared to stay indoors. They went
into the garden, where the roses had opened in the warmth of the
sun, and first sat down by the stream, then went to the grottos,
where Markhold particularly admired the shell decorations. When
this charming party had had enough of both, they finally betook
themselves to a leafy walk, where Rosemund introduced pleasant
conversation on many topics. She talked first about the many
colours of tulips, and remarked that even a painter could not
produce a greater variety of tints nor finer pictures than these,
etc.

In describing physical beauty, he used comparisons from Nature; for
instance, in _Simson_[16]:

The sun at its brightest never shone so brightly as her two eyes
... no flower at its best can shew such red as blooms in the
meadow of her cheeks, no civet rose is so milk-white, no lily so
delicate and spotless, no snow fresh-fallen and untrodden is so
white, as the heaven of her brows, the stronghold of her mind.

H. Anselm von Ziegler und Klipphausen also waxes eloquent in his
famous _Asiatischen Banise_: 'The suns of her eyes played with
lightnings; her curly hair, like waves round her head, was somewhat
darker than white; her cheeks were a pleasant Paradise where rose and
lily bloomed together in beauty--yea, love itself seemed to pasture
there.' Elsewhere too this writer, so highly esteemed by the second
Silesian school of poets, indulged in showy description and inflated
rhetoric. Anton Ulrich von Braunschweig-Wolfenbuettel tried more
elaborate d