What people are saying - Write a review
We haven't found any reviews in the usual places.
Other editions - View all
ALTENAHR Andernach Archbishop of Cologne arms basaltic beams beautiful beneath Bingen bless blood bosom brave breast breath bride bright brother brow Burgraves castle chair at Rhense chieftain cloister Count Eberhard Count Otto cried dark death deep Duke of Limburg earth echoes emperor Erilda eyes F. R. Planché fair falchion father fierce fisher rose Freda gaze gentle German golden hand happiness hath hear heart heaven holy honour Kingly chair Klemens Brentano knight lady Liba Liebenstein light lips lonely look Lorch lord Lureley Lurline magic maiden Mentz Minnesingers minstrel monk morning mountain mourn never noble o'er pale Rhine rock rose Rudolf ruin scene scornful ladies seemed shine Sibert Sir Balther Sir Harold sisters smile soft song sorrow steed Sternfels stood sweet sword tears tell thee thou tide towers vale voice walls wander waves wild wind wine Winkle yonder young
Page 31 - I never more shall see my own, my native land : Take a message, and a token to some distant friends of mine; For I was born at Bingen, — at Bingen on the Rhine...
Page 34 - I saw the blue Rhine sweep along — I heard, or seemed to hear, The German songs we used to sing, in chorus sweet and clear, And down the pleasant river, and up the slanting hill, The echoing chorus sounded through the evening calm and still; And her glad blue eyes were on me as we passed with friendly talk Down many a path beloved of yore, and...
Page 32 - And midst the dead and dying were some grown old in wars, The death-wound on their gallant breasts, the last of many scars ; But some were young, and suddenly beheld life's morn decline : And one had come from Bingen — fair Bingen on the Rhine 1 " Tell my mother that her other sons shall comfort her old age, And I...
Page 33 - Tell my sister not to weep for me, and sob with drooping head, When the troops are marching home again, with glad and gallant tread; But to look upon them proudly, with a calm and steadfast eye, For her brother was a soldier too, and not afraid to die. And if a comrade seek her love, I ask her in my name To listen to him kindly, without regret or shame; And to hang the old sword in its place (my father's sword and mine) , For the honor of old Bingen — dear Bingen on the Rhine...
Page 62 - I've a trifle to say Ere thus from my duties you draw me astray. My beautiful Lurley, one instant delay — Each wish that you utter I burn to obey ; But, in truth, love, I don't very well see my way. For though many people I've met heretofore Find keeping their heads above water a bore, Yet keeping mine under would puzzle me more.
Page 35 - His eyes put on a dying look,— he sighed and ceased to speak ; His comrade bent to lift him but the spark of life had fled ! The soldier of the Legion in a foreign land was dead! And the soft moon rose up slowly, and calmly she looked down On the red sand of the battle-field, with bloody corpses strown ; Yea, calmly on that dreadful scene her pale light seemed to shine, As it shone on distant Bingen — fair Bingen on the Rhine ! THE KING OF DENMARK'S RIDE.
Page 32 - For my father was a soldier, and even as a child My heart leaped forth to hear him tell of struggles fierce and wild; And when he died, and left us to divide his scanty hoard, I let them take whate'er they would, but kept my father's sword, And with boyish love I hung it where the bright light used to shine, On the...
Page 102 - Then his old ancestral castle He for ever flees ; Battle-steed and trusty weapon Never more he sees. From the Toggenburg descending, Forth unknown he glides ; For the frame once sheathed in iron Now the sackcloth hides. There beside that hallowed region He hath built his bower, Where from out the dusky lindens Looked the convent...
Page 101 - ... his steed, Summons every faithful vassal From his Alpine home, Binds the cross upon his bosom, Seeks the Holy Tomb. There full many a deed of glory Wrought the hero's arm ; Foremost still his plumage floated Where the foemen swarm ; Till the Moslem, terror-stricken, Quailed before his name. But the pang that wrings his bosom Lives at heart the same. One long year he bears his sorrow, But no more can bear ; Rest he seeks, but, finding never, Leaves the army there ; Sees a ship by Joppa's haven,...
Page 34 - That echoing chorus sounded through the evening calm and still ; And her glad blue eyes were on me, as we passed with friendly talk Down many a path beloved of yore, and well-remembered walk; And her little hand lay lightly, confidingly in mine — But we'll meet no more at Bingen — loved Bingen on the Rhine.