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Translated by W. C. Bryant
REIN in thy snorting charger! | |
| That stag but cheats thy sight; | |
| He is luring thee on to Windeck, | |
| With his seeming fear and flight. | |
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| Now, where the mouldering turrets | 5 |
| Of the outer gate arise, | |
| The knight gazed over the ruins | |
| Where the stag was lost to his eyes. | |
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| The sun shone hot above him; | |
| The castle was still as death; | 10 |
| He wiped the sweat from his forehead, | |
| With a deep and weary breath. | |
| |
| “Who now will bring me a beaker | |
| Of the rich old wine that here, | |
| In the choked-up vaults of Windeck, | 15 |
| Has lain for many a year?” | |
| |
| The careless words had scarcely | |
| Time from his lips to fall, | |
| When the Lady of Castle Windeck | |
| Came round the ivy-wall. | 20 |
| |
| He saw the glorious maiden | |
| In her snow-white drapery stand, | |
| The bunch of keys at her girdle, | |
| The beaker high in her hand. | |
| |
| He quaffed that rich old vintage, | 25 |
| With an eager lip he quaffed; | |
| But he took into his bosom | |
| A fire with the grateful draught. | |
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| Her eyes’ unfathomed brightness! | |
| The flowing gold of her hair! | 30 |
| He folded his hands in homage, | |
| And murmured a lover’s prayer. | |
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| She gave him a look of pity, | |
| A gentle look of pain; | |
| And quickly as he had seen her | 35 |
| She passed from his sight again. | |
| |
| And ever from that moment | |
| He haunted the ruins there, | |
| A sleepless, restless wanderer, | |
| A watcher with despair. | 40 |
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| Ghost-like and pale he wandered, | |
| With a dreamy, haggard eye; | |
| He seemed not one of the living, | |
| And yet he could not die. | |
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| ’T is said that the lady met him, | 45 |
| When many years had passed, | |
| And, kissing his lips, released him | |
| From the burden of life at last. | |
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