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Translations from Heine.
With a golden comb sits combing,
And ever the while sings she
A marvellous song through the gloaming
Of magical melody.
It hath caught the boatman, and bound him
In the spell of a wild sad love;
He sees not the rocks around him,
He sees only her above.
The waves through the pass sweep swinging,
But boatman or boat is none;
And this with her mighty singing
The Loreley hath done.
THE MOUNTAIN VOICE.
There rode[errata 1] a horseman brave:
"Ah! draw I near to my darling's arms,
Or near to the gloomy grave?"
The echo answer gave:
"To the gloomy grave!"
And as the horseman onward rode
A deep sigh heaved his breast:
Errata
