KONRAD WALLENROD.
41
to wait, and involuntarily some childish song. . . Away with that song—why should I complain? With thee, my love, did I pass a moment,—that one brief moment I would not exchange for a life which some pass in indolent repose.
Thou told'st me that common people are like shells that lie concealed in mud, and are scarcely once a year thrown out by the tempest from the depth of the troubled waters; they open their mouths, utter a sigh to Heaven, and again return to their tomb.
No! I am not made for such happiness. Whilst I led a quiet life in my native land, in the midst of playful companions, I longed and sighed for something. I felt my heart's secret beating. Often I hastened from the level meadow,
6
