WINE, WOMEN, AND SONG. - The Language Realm

Yet the doubt returneth,
Lest perchance that hope should be
Crushed and shattered suddenly.
[79]
On one girl my fancy so,
On one star, reposes;
Her sweet lips with honey flow
And the scent of roses:
In her smile I laugh, and fire
Fills me with her love's desire.
Love in measure over­much
Strikes man's soul with anguish;
Anxious love's too eager touch
Makes man fret and languish:
Thus in doubt and grief I pine;
Pain more sure was none than mine.
Burning in love's fiery flood,
Lo, my life is wasted!
Such the fever of my blood
That I scarce have tasted
Mortal bread and wine, but sup
Like a god love's nectar­cup.
The village dance forms an important element in the pleasures of the season. Here is a pretty
picture in two stanzas of a linden sheltering some Suabian meadow.
THE VILLAGE DANCE.
No. 20.
Wide the lime­tree to the air
Spreads her boughs and foliage fair;
Thyme beneath is growing
[80]On the verdant meadow­where
Dancers' feet are going.
Through the grass a little spring
Runs with jocund murmuring;
All the place rejoices;
Cooling zephyrs breathe and sing
With their summer voices.
I have freely translated a second, which presents a more elaborate picture of a similar scene.