A Ballad of the "Thuner-See"

Soft on the lake's soft bosom we twain

Float in the haze of a dim delight,

While the wavelets cradle the sleepless brain,

And the eyes are glad of the lessening light,

And the east with a fading glory is bright —

The lingering smile of a sun that is set —

And the earth in its tender sorrow is dight,

And the shadow that falleth hath spared us yet!

Oh! the mellow beam of the suns that wane,

Of the joys, ah me! that are taking flight;

Oh, the sting of a rapture too near to pain,

And of love that loveth imdeath's despite!

But the hour is ours, and its beauty's might

Subdues our souls to a still regret,

While the Blumlis-Alp unveils to the night,

And the shadow that falleth hath spared us yet!