There came a stranger to our halls; he bore
High rank and honour in the emperor's court,
From whom he brought a greeting to our king.
It doth not need to paint his lofty step,
His falcon eye; he won him many hearts;
Such triumphs then were surest road to mine.
I loved Count Herman—passionately loved;
And I, methinks, grew better for that love;
For early love brings with it gentleness,
And self-distrust, and timid cares; love feels
Its own unworthiness, and I felt mine—
Conscious of faults I never dreamed before.
Had my affection been less rashly placed
It had been better for my happiness;
But Herman loved in that frivolity
Which most destroys our nature's higher part.
He woke in me no great and noble thoughts,
No generous imaginings; the mind,
Stirred by the feelings to its inward depths,
Was a mysterious sea he sounded not;
His choice was but a worldly preference,
And mutable like other worldly things;
It had no soul, and thence no certainty:
For constancy is but love's spiritual part.
Count Herman left our court with many vows;
How he fulfilled them one short summer taught,
Which saw him wedded in his native land.
Not 'mid the quiet influences around—
