ich thy history tell.

I catch the whispered hope expressed,
That thou should'st once again appear;
So cast aside each doubt and fear,
And come, Undine! thou spirit blest!

Greet every noble in the hall,
And greet 'fore all, with trusting air,
The beauteous women gathered there;
I know that thou art loved by all.

And if one ask thee after me,
Say: he's a true and noble knight,
Fair woman's slave in song and fight
And in all deeds of chivalry.

UNDINE.

CHAPTER I.

HOW THE KNIGHT CAME TO THE FISHERMAN.

There was once, it may be now many hundred years ago, a good old
fisherman, who was sitting one fine evening before his door, mending
his nets. The part of the country in which he lived was extremely
pretty. The greensward, on which his cottage stood, ran far into the
lake, and it seemed as if it was from love for the blue clear waters
that the tongue of land had stretched itself out into them, while
with an equally fond embrace the lake had encircled the green
pasture rich with waving grass and flowers, and the refreshing shade
of trees. The one welcomed the other, and it was just this that made
each so beautiful. There were indeed few human beings, or rather
none at all, to be met with on this pleasant spot, except the
fisherman and his family. For at the back of this little promontory
there lay a very wild forest, which, both from its gloom and
pathless solitude as well as from the wonderful creatures and
illusions with which it was said to abound, was avoided by most
people except in cases of necessity.

The pious old fisherman, however, passed through it many a time
undisturbed, when he was taking the choice fish, which he had caught
at his beautiful home, to a large town situated not far from the
confines of the forest. The principal reason why it was so easy for
him to pass through this forest was because the tone of his thoughts
was almost entirely of a religious character, and besides this,
whenever he set foot upon the evil reputed shades, he was wont to
sing some holy song, with a clear voice and a sincere heart.

While sitting over his nets this evening, unsuspicious of any evil,
a sudden fear came upon him, at the sound of a rustling in the gloom
of the forest, as of a horse and rider, the noise approaching nearer
and nearer to the little promontory. All that he had dreamed, in
many a stormy night, of the mysteries of the forest, now flash