TRANSLATIONS OF BÜRGER'S LENORE
89
"Many a mile o'er distant ground
Ere our nuptial couch we reach?—
The iron bells of midnight sound,
Soon the midnight fiends will screech."—
"See how clear the moon's full ray,
Soon the dead's swift course is sped.
Long, O long ere dawn of day
We shall reach the bridal-bed."
Ere our nuptial couch we reach?—
The iron bells of midnight sound,
Soon the midnight fiends will screech."—
"See how clear the moon's full ray,
Soon the dead's swift course is sped.
Long, O long ere dawn of day
We shall reach the bridal-bed."
"Who shall tend thy nuptial bower,
Who thy nuptial couch shall spread?"
"Silent, cold, and small, our bower,
Form'd of planks our nuptial bed.
Yet for me, for thee there's space—
Lightly on the courser bound,
Deck'd is now our bridal place,
Guests expecting wait around."
Who thy nuptial couch shall spread?"
"Silent, cold, and small, our bower,
Form'd of planks our nuptial bed.
Yet for me, for thee there's space—
Lightly on the courser bound,
Deck'd is now our bridal place,
Guests expecting wait around."
Won by fond affection's charm
On the horse she lightly sprung,
Round her love, her lily arm
Close the love-sick virgin flung.
On they press their rapid flight
Swifter than the whirlwind's force,
Struck from flints a sparkling light
Marks the steed's unceasing course.
On the horse she lightly sprung,
Round her love, her lily arm
Close the love-sick virgin flung.
On they press their rapid flight
Swifter than the whirlwind's force,
Struck from flints a sparkling light
Marks the steed's unceasing course.
On the left, and on the right,
Heaths, and meads, and fallow'd grounds,
Seem receding from their sight;
How each bridge they pass resounds.
"Fears my Love?—the moon shines clear.
Swift the course of death is sped.
Does my Love the dead now fear?"—
"No, ah! no!—Why name the dead?"
Heaths, and meads, and fallow'd grounds,
Seem receding from their sight;
How each bridge they pass resounds.
"Fears my Love?—the moon shines clear.
Swift the course of death is sped.
Does my Love the dead now fear?"—
"No, ah! no!—Why name the dead?"
Hark! The solemn dirge, and knell!
Croaking round the raven flies,—
Hear the death song!—hear the bell.—
See a grave fresh opened lies.
See the sad funereal rite,
See the coffin and the bier,
Hear the shriek of wild affright,
Groans of lamentation hear!
Croaking round the raven flies,—
Hear the death song!—hear the bell.—
See a grave fresh opened lies.
See the sad funereal rite,
See the coffin and the bier,
Hear the shriek of wild affright,
Groans of lamentation hear!
"While sounds the dirge, while death-bells ring,
The corpse interr'd at midnight see.—
Home my blooming bride I bring,
You our bridal guests must be.—
The corpse interr'd at midnight see.—
Home my blooming bride I bring,
You our bridal guests must be.—
