New Spring, 31

“Linden blossoms drunk with moonlight
“Fly about in fragrant showers,
“And the nightingale’s sweet music
“Fills the air and leafy bowers.

“Ah! how sweet it is, my loved one,
“‘Neath these lindens to be sitting,
“When the glimm’ring golden moonbeams
“Through the fragrant leaves are flitting.

“If thou lookest on the lime-leaf,
“Thou a heart’s form wilt discover;
“Therefore are the lindens ever
“Chosen seats of each fond lover.

“Yet thou smilest, as though buried
“In far distant visions yearning--
“Speak, belovèd, all the wishes
“That in thy dear heart are burning.”

Ah, my darling! I will tell thee
Whence my thoughts proceed, and whither:
Fain I’d see the chilly north-wind
Sudden bring white snowstorms hither.

So that we, with furs well cover’d,
And in gaudy sledges riding,
Cracking whips, with bells loud ringing,
Might o’er stream and plain be gliding.