XI
I am a linden with large crown,
In style dressed in the meadow:
Thou beautiful, sweet rose of May,
Come to my cooling shadow.
Here each green leaf does odor breathe
And swarms of bees are humming,
And, nightly, little birds arrive—
Those are my thoughts, home coming.
They fly far-off as children do
From home until they hunger,
But, with Thee seated close to me,
They will depart no longer.