sword in firm hands; and then in their dear mustachiod faces he can
plainly read how they often longed for the sweet hearts of their Harz
princesses, and for the familiar rustling of the Harz forests, when they
sojourned in distant lands--yes, even when in Italy, so rich in oranges
and poisons, whither they, with their followers, were often enticed by
the desire of being called Roman emperors, a genuine German lust for
title, which finally destroyed emperor and empire.

I, however, advise every one who may hereafter stand on the summit of
the Ilsenstein to think neither of emperor nor empire nor of the fair
Ilse, but simply of his own feet. For as I stood there, lost in thought,
I suddenly heard the subterranean music of the enchanted castle, and saw
the mountains around begin to stand on their heads, while the red-tiled
roofs of Ilsenburg were dancing, and green trees flew through the air,
until all was green and blue before my eyes, and I, overcome by
giddiness, would assuredly have fallen into the abyss, had I not, in the
dire need of my soul, clung fast to the iron cross. No one who reflects
on the critically ticklish situation in which I was then placed can
possibly find fault with me for having done this.

[Illustration: VIEW FROM ST. ANDREASBERG]

* * * * *




BOYHOOD DAYS[55]

By Heinrich Heine