THE MELODY (FROM ARNE)

The youth in the woods spent the whole day long,
The whole day long;
For there he had heard such a wonderful song,
Wonderful song.

Willow-wood gave him a flute so fair,
A flute so fair,--
To try, if within were the melody rare,
Melody rare.

Melody whispered and said: "I am here!"
Said: "I am here!"
But while he was listening, it fled from his ear,
Fled from his ear.

Oft when he slept, it to him crept,
It to him crept;
And over his forehead in love it swept,
In love it swept.

When he would seize it, his sleep took flight,
His sleep took flight;
The melody hung in the pallid night,
In the pallid night.

"Lord, O my God, take me therein,
Take me therein!
The melody rare all my soul doth win,
My soul doth win."

Answered the Lord: "'T is your friend alone,
Your friend alone;
Though never an hour you it shall own,
You it shall own."

Read next: OUR COUNTRY (1859) (See Note 4)

Read previous: THE TREE (FROM ARNE)

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