. The German classics of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; masterpieces of German literature . 212 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Led they not forth, in rapture, A beauteous maiden there,Resplendent as the morning sun, Beaming ^vith golden hair? Well saw I the ancient parents,Without the crown of pride; They were moving slow, in weeds of woe-No maiden was by their side! SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN BOY* (1806) The mountain shepherd-boy am I;The castles all below me spy.The sun send-s me his earliest beam,Leaves me his latest, lingering gleam.I am the boy of the mountain! The mountain torrents home is here.
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. The German classics of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries; masterpieces of German literature . 212 THE GERMAN CLASSICS Led they not forth, in rapture, A beauteous maiden there,Resplendent as the morning sun, Beaming ^vith golden hair? Well saw I the ancient parents,Without the crown of pride; They were moving slow, in weeds of woe-No maiden was by their side! SONG OF THE MOUNTAIN BOY* (1806) The mountain shepherd-boy am I;The castles all below me spy.The sun send-s me his earliest beam,Leaves me his latest, lingering gleam.I am the boy of the mountain! The mountain torrents home is here.Fresh from the rock I drink it clear;As out it leaps with furious force,I stretch my arms and stop its course.I am the boy of the mountain! I claim the mountain for my own;In vain the winds around me moan;From north to south let tempests brawl —My song shall swell above them all.I am the boy of the mountain! Thunder and lightning below me lie,Yet here I stand in upper sky;I know them well, and cry, Harm notMy fathers lowly, peaceful cot.I am the boy of the mountain! Translator: C. T. Brooks.. UHLAND: POEMS 213 But when I hear the alarm-bell sound,When watch-fires gleam from the mountains round,Then dowm I go and march along,And swing my sword, and sing my song.I am the bov of the mountain! DEPARTURE* (1806) What jingles and carols along the street IFling open your casements, damsels sweet!The prentice friends, they are bearingThe boy on his far wayfaring. *Mid fluttering ribbons and tossing caps,Full merry the rabble huzzas and claps;But the boy regards not the token —He walks like one heartbroken. Full clear clinks the wine-can, full red gleams thewine:** Drink .deep and drink deeper, dear brother mine! * Oh, have done with the red wine of parting That burns me within with its smarting! And outside from the cottage, last of all,A maiden peeps out and her tear-drops fall,Yet her tear-drops to none she disclosesBut forget-me-nots and roses. And outside by the cottage, last o