With my pilgrim staff to stray,
Till I lay my head aweary
In some cool grave far away.

2 [3]

Cliff and castle quiver grayly
From the mirror of the Rhine
Where my little boat swims gaily;
Round her prow the ripples shine.

Heart at ease I watch them thronging--
Waves of gold with crisping crest,
Till awakes a half-lulled longing
Cherished deep within my breast.

Temptingly the ripples greet me
Luring toward the gulf beneath,
Yet I know that should they meet me
They would drag me to my death.

Lovely visage, treacherous bosom,
Guile beneath and smile above,
Stream, thy dimpling wavelet's blossom
Laughs as falsely as my love.

3[4]

I despaired at first--believing
I should never bear it. Now