chriemhild.
81
Black shadows, in behind the beech-leaves hidden,
That lean to clutch the sunshine's falling gold,
And dim, deep thickets, by white glimmerings thridden,
Send her no thrill of cold.
That lean to clutch the sunshine's falling gold,
And dim, deep thickets, by white glimmerings thridden,
Send her no thrill of cold.
And she can hear, by woman's fears unshaken,
The warrior pine's long requiem on the air,
And winds astray, that from lone hollows waken
A wail, as of despair.
The warrior pine's long requiem on the air,
And winds astray, that from lone hollows waken
A wail, as of despair.
She can pluck roses, unaware of danger,
Since innocence keeps watch and ward within:
To evil dreads a careless, happy stranger,
Unvisited of sin.
Since innocence keeps watch and ward within:
To evil dreads a careless, happy stranger,
Unvisited of sin.
One night a dream alighted in her bower:
A mystic falcon perched upon her hand;
Daring and beautiful, he curbed his power,
As waiting her command.
A mystic falcon perched upon her hand;
Daring and beautiful, he curbed his power,
As waiting her command.
Then two fierce eagles through the azure swooping,
Plunged into that brave bird their cruel claws,
And snatched him from her sight, with sorrow drooping;
Ah! bitter was the cause!
Plunged into that brave bird their cruel claws,
And snatched him from her sight, with sorrow drooping;
Ah! bitter was the cause!
