Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916.
By The NunLudwig Uhland (17871862)
I
A pallid maiden dreamed.
The moon was dim above—
On drooping lashes gleamed
A tear of tender love.
What blessedness for me!
Now it is right to love:
An angel he will be,
And angels I may love.
To mother Mary’s shrine;
The image, wondrous mild,
Looked in the pale moonshine
Upon the undefiled.
In heavenly peace reposed,
Until her eyelids frail
In gentle death were closed;
Down fell the long, black veil.