And the gleam on its path as it steals away I thirst for its rills, like a wounded roe. Be still, thou sea-bird, with thy clanging cry, Know ye my home, with the lulling sound With the streamy gold of the sun that shines Like shooting stars in the forest-glades, And the scent of the citron at eve's dim fallSpeak!-have ye known, have ye felt them all? The heavy-rolling surge, the rocking mast! Hush-give my dream's deep music way, thou blast! Oh! the glad sounds of the joyous earth! I hear them!-around me they rise, they swell, And waken my youth in its hour of prime. The white foam dashes high-away, away, Shroud my green land no more, thou blinding spray ! It is there!-down the mountains I see the sweep wear, Floating upborne on the blue summer-air, And the light pouring through them in tender gleams, And the flashing forth of a thousand streams. To the hills of my youth, where the myrtles blow, To the depths of the woods, where the shadows rest, Massy and still, on the greensward's breast, Give way!-the booming surge, the tempest's roar, The sea-bird's wail, shall vex my soul no more. THE GRAVE OF KÖRNER. Charles Theodore Korner, the celebrated young German poet and soldier, was killed in a skirmish with a detachment of French troops, on the 20th of August 1813, a few hours after the composition of his popular piece, "The Sword Song" He was buried at the village of Wöbbelin in Mecklenburg, under a beautiful oak, in a recess of which he had frequently deposited verses composed by him while campaigning in its vicinity. The monument erected to his memory is of cast iron, and the upper part is wrought into a lyre and a sword, a favourite emblem of Körner's, from which one of his works had been entitled. Near the grave of the poet is that of his only sister, who died of grief for his loss, having only survived him long enough to complete his portrait, and a drawing of his burial-place. Over the gate of the cemetery is engraved one of his own lines. Vergiss die treuen Tödten nicht." "Forget not the faithful Dead." See Downes's Letters from Mecklenburg, and Körner's Prosaische Aufsätze, von C. A. Tiedge. GREEN wave the oak for ever o'er thy rest, Brightly thy spirit o'er her hills was pour'd, Rest, Bard, rest, Soldier!-by the father's hand The oak waved proudly o'er thy burial rite, On thy crown'd bier to slumber warriors bore thee, And with true hearts thy brethren of the fight Wept as they vail'd their drooping banners o'er thee; And the deep guns with rolling peal gave token, Thou hast a hero's tomb-a lowlier bed * The poems of Körner, which were chiefly devoted to the cause of his country, are strikingly distinguished by religious feelings, and a confidence in the Supreme Justice for the final deliverance of Germany. |