THE MAID OF THE MILL'S TREACHERY.
[This ballad is introduced in the "Wanderjahre," in a tale called "The Foolish Pilgrim."]
Whence comes our friend so hastily,
When scarce the eastern sky is gray?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,
In yonder holy spot to pray?
The brook appears to hem his path,
Would he barefooted o'er it go?
Why curse his orisons in wrath,
Across those heights beclad with snow?
Alas! his warm bed he hath left,
Where he had looked for bliss, I ween;
And if his cloak, too, had been reft,
How fearful his disgrace had been!
By yonder villain sorely pressed,
His wallet from him had been torn;
Our hapless friend has been undressed,—
Left well-nigh naked as when born.
The reason why he came this road.
Is that he sought a pair of eyes,
Which, at the mill, as brightly glowed
As those that are in Paradise.
He will not soon again be there.
From out the house he quickly hied,
And when he gained the open air,
Thus bitterly and loudly cried:
"Within her gaze, so dazzling bright,
No word of teachery I could read;
She seemed to see me with delight,
