168
Translations from Heine.
"And next to us lived Maggie,
She lived, she lives not now:
Marie, I bring thee a wax heart,
My bleeding heart heal thou!
"Heal thou my heart sore wounded,
And early and late to thee
Will I sing and pray with fervour
Blessèd be thou, Marie!"
III.
Were sleeping from all ill,
When lo, the Mother of Jesus
Came gliding in so still.
She bent down over the sick one,
And softly laid her hand
Upon his heart; then vanished
Smiling sweet and bland.
The mother saw all in her dreaming,
And fain had seen yet[errata 1] more;
But she was roused from slumber,
The dogs made such uproar.
Errata