!
Fall mer nit sel Reiuli ab!--Do hemmer's, i sags io--
Hani's denn nit gseit? Doch gauckelet's witers
und witers,
Groblet uf alle Vieren, und stellt si wieder uf
d' Beinli,
Schlieft in d' Huerst--iez such mer's eisl--doert
gueggelet's use,
Wart, i chumm! Druf rueefts mer wieder hinter
de Baeume:
'Roth wo bin i iez!'--und het si urige Phatest.
Aber wie de gosch, wirsch sichtli groesser und
schoener.
Wo di liebligen Othern weiht, so faerbt si der Rase
Grueener rechts und links, es stoehn in saftige
Triebe
Gras und Chrueter uf, es stoehn in frischere Gstalte
Farbigi Blueemli do, und d' Immli choemmen und
suge.
'S Wasserstelzli chunnt, und lueg doch,'s Wuli
vo Todtnau!
Alles will di bschauen, und Alles will di bigruesse,
Und di fruendlig Herz git alle fruendligi Rede:
'Choemmet ihr ordlige Thierli, do hender, esset
und trinket!
Witers goht mi Weg, Gsegott, ihr ordlige Thierli!'"
]

The poet follows the stream through her whole course, never dropping the
figure, which is adapted, with infinite adroitness, and with the play
of a fancy as wayward and unrestrained as her own waters, to all her
changing aspects. Beside the Catholic chapel of Fair-Beeches she pauses
to listen to the mass; but farther down the valley becomes an apostate,
and attends the Lutheran service in the Husemer church. Stronger and
statelier grown, she trips along with the step of a maiden conscious of
her own beauty, and the poet clothes her in the costume of an Alemannic
bride, with a green kirtle of a hundred folds, and a stomacher of Milan
gauze, "like a loose cloud on a morning sky in spring-time." Thus
equipped, she wanders at will over the broader meadows, around the feet
of vineyard-hills, visits villages and churches, or stops to gossip with
the lusty young millers. But the woman's destiny is before her; she
cannot escape it; and the time is drawing near when her wild, singing,
pastoral being shall be absorbed in that of the strong male stream, the
bright-eyed son of the Alps, who has come so far to woo and win her.

Daughter o' Feldberg, half-and-half I've got
a suspicion
How as you've virtues and faults enough now
to choose ye a husband.
Castin' y'r eyes down, are you? Pickin' and
plattin' y'r ribbons?
Don't be so foolish, wench!--She thinks I
know nothin' about it,
How she's already engaged, and ea