ranger ne'er entrances.

Beyond the Alps there is a grave,
The Rhine watch o'er it keepeth;
And three wild roses bloom thereon;
Therein my love-dream sleepeth.

Oh Roman girl, why lookest thou
At me with burning glances?
Thine eye, though beautiful it be,
The stranger ne'er entrances.

VI.

Outside the gates when walking,
I see of life no trace;
There is the wide-spread graveyard
Of the ancient Roman race.

They rest from love and hatred,
From pleasure, strife, and guilt;
There in the Appian Way are
Their tombs of marble built

A tower greets me, gilded
By the setting sun's last rays--
Caecilia Metella,
At thy proud tomb I gaze.

My eyes are turning northward,
As 'mid this pile I stand;
My thoughts are swiftly flying
Far from this southern land,

On to another tower,
With stones of smaller size;
By the shady vine-clad window
I see my love's sweet eyes.

VII.

The world lies now encircled
By the frosty winter night.
No use that by the hearth-stone
I think of love's sad flight.

The logs will soon be burnt out,
To ashes all will fall;
The embers will cease glowing,
That is the end of all.

It is the same old story,
I think of nothing more
But silence and forgetting--
Forget what I adore?

VIII.

The crowd it frolics, shouts and sings,
Disturbs Rome's usual quiet;
Mad folly high her banner swings,
And thronging masks run riot.

Now up and down the Corso pace
Gay coaches 'mid wild showers;
The Carnival's great sport takes place,
The fight with chalk and flowers.

Confetti and fair roses fly,
Bouquets are thickly raining.
That hit--good luck! how glows her eye!
Thou art the victory gaining.

And thou, my heart, mirth also show,
Forget what thou hast suffered;
Let bygone times and bygone woe
With flowers sweet be covered.

IX.

By the clear green Lake of Nemi
An old maple-tree doth grow;
Through its lofty leafy summit
The breezes sadly blow.