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| MY heart is in a mountain mood, | |
| Though I am bound to tread the plain, | |
| She will away for ill or good, | |
| I cannot lure her back again; | |
| So let her go,God speed her flight | 5 |
| Oer racy glebe and columned town, | |
| I know that she will rest ere night | |
| By the remembered banks of Traun. | |
| |
| And she will pray her sister Muse, | |
| Sister, companion, friend, and guide, | 10 |
| Her every art and grace to use, | |
| For love of that well-cherished tide; | |
| But words are weak,she cannot reach | |
| By such poor steps that Beautys crown; | |
| How can the Muse to others teach | 15 |
| What were to me the banks of Traun? | |
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| She can repeat the faithful tale | |
| That where thy genial waters flow, | |
| All objects the rare crystal hail, | |
| And cast their voices far below; | 20 |
| And there the steadfast echoes rest | |
| Till the old sun himself goes down, | |
| Till darkness falls on every breast, | |
| Even on thine, transparent Traun. | |
| |
| And she can say, Whereer thou art, | 25 |
| Brawling mid rocks, or calm-embayed, | |
| Outpouring thy abundant heart | |
| In ample lake or deep cascade, | |
| Whatever dress thy sides adorn, | |
| Fresh-dewy leaves or fir-stems brown, | 30 |
| Or ruby-dripping barberry-thorn, | |
| Thou art thyself, delightful Traun! | |
| |
| No glacier-mountains, harshly bold, | |
| Whose peaks disturb the summer air, | |
| And make the gentle blue so cold, | 35 |
| And hurt our warmest thoughts, are there; | |
| But upland meadows lush with rills, | |
| Soft-green as is the love-birds down, | |
| And quaintest forms of pine-clad hills | |
| Are thy fit setting, jewelled Traun! | 40 |
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| But the wise Muse need not be told, | |
| Though fair and just her song may seem, | |
| The same has oft been sung of old, | |
| Of many a less deserving stream; | |
| For where would be the worth of sight, | 45 |
| If Love could feed on blank renown? | |
| They who have loved the Traun aright | |
| Have sat beside the banks of Traun. | |
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