!
Here the true Spouse the lost-beloved regains,
And on the enamell'd couch of summer-plains
Mingles sweet kisses with the west-wind's breath.
Here, crown'd at last--Love never knows decay,
Living through ages its one BRIDAL DAY,
Safe from the stroke of Death!

* * * * *

COUNT EBERHARD, THE GRUMBLER, OF WURTEMBERG.

Ha, ha I take heed--ha, ha! take heed,[10]
Ye knaves both South and North!
For many a man both bold in deed
And wise in peace, the land to lead,
Old Swabia has brought forth.

Proud boasts your Edward and your Charles,
Your Ludwig, Frederick--are!
Yet Eberhard's worth, ye bragging carles!
Your Ludwig, Frederick, Edward, Charles--
A thunder-storm in war.

And Ulrick, too, his noble son,
Ha, ha! his might ye know;
Old Eberhard's boast, his noble son,
Not he the boy, ye rogues, to run,
How stout soe'er the foe!

The Reutling lads with envy saw
Our glories, day by day;
The Reutling lads shall give the law--
The Reutling lads the sword shall draw--
O Lord--how hot were they!

Out Ulrick went and beat them not--
To Eberhard back he came--
A lowering look young Ulrick got--
Poor lad, his eyes with tears were hot--
He hung his head for shame.

"Ho--ho"--thought he--"ye rogues beware,
Nor you nor I forget--
For by my father's beard I swear
Your blood shall wash the blot I bear,
And Ulrick pay you yet!"

Soon came the hour! with steeds and men
The battle-field was gay;
Steel closed in steel at Duffingen--
And joyous was our stripling then,
And joyous the hurra!

"The battle lost" our battle-cry;
The foe once more advances:
As some fierce whirlwind cleaves the sky,
We skirr, through blood and slaughter, by,
Amidst a night of lances!

On, lion-like, grim Ulrick sweeps--
Bright shines his hero-glaive--
Her chase before him Fury keeps,
Far-heard behind him, Anguish weeps,
And round him--is the Grave!

Woe--woe! it gleams--the sabre-blow--
Swift-sheering down it sped--
Around, brave hearts the buckler throw--
Alas! our boast in dust is low!
Count Eberhard's boy is dead!

Grief checks the rushing Victor-van--
Fierce eyes strange moisture know--
On rides old Eberhard, stern and wa