Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Germany: Vols. XVII–XVIII. 1876–79.
On the Drachenfels
By Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810–1876)H
I bit my lip, my eye flashed proudly,
From cliff and crag with joyous yells
My pointer roused glad echoes loudly;
He flew before, he leapt, he ran,
As though some game he were pursuing,
But I looked forth, a joyful man,
The scene beneath me lost in viewing.
Of purple and of yellow cluster,
I saw the Valley of the Rhine
Arch, like a goblet green of lustre;
A chalice rare!—Tradition dreams
Upon its brink on ruins hoary;
The wine that in the goblet beams,—
Love and romance, renowned in story!
Cheeks glow and flush, and hearts beat madly,
Helmet and casque are flashing bright,
And fresh fair wounds are trickling gladly;
While on yon turret pensive stands
To whom are lowered lance and crest;—
Wherefore am I thus strangely moved?
What sweet foreboding thrills my breast?