Wafts onward many a gleesome wherry,
And this last skiff moves from the brink
So laden that it seems to sink.
Ev’n from the far hills’ winding way
I’ the sunshine glitter their garments gay.
I hear the hamlet’s noisy mirth;
Here is the people’s heaven on earth,
And great and small rejoice to-day.
Here may I be a man, here dare
The joys of men with men to share.
Wagner.
With you, Herr Doctor, one is proud to walk,
Sharing your fame, improving by your talk;
But, for myself, I shun the multitude,
Being a foe to everything that’s rude.
I may not brook their senseless howling,
Their fiddling, screaming, ninepin bowling;
Like men possessed, they rave along,
And call it joy, and call it song.
Scene III.
Peasants. [beneath a lime-tree]
The shepherd for the dance was dressed,
With ribbon, wreath, and spotted vest,
Right sprucely he did show.
And round and round the linden-tree
All danced as mad as mad could be.
Juchhe, juchhe!
Juchheisa, heisa, he!
So went the fiddle bow.
Then with a jerk he wheeled him by,
And on a maiden that stood nigh
He with his elbow came.
Quick turned the wench, and, “Sir,” quoth she,
“Such game is rather rough for me.”
Juchhe, juchhe!
Juchheisa, heisa, he!
“For shame, I say, for shame!”
Yet merrily went it round and round,
And right and left they swept the ground,
And coat and kirtle flew;
And they grew red, and they grew warm,
And, panting, rested arm in arm;
Juchhe, juchhe!
Juchheisa, heisa, he!
And hips on elbows too.
And “Softly, softly,” quoth the quean,
“How many a bride hath cheated been
By men as fair as you!”
But he spoke a word in her ear aside,
And from the tree it shouted wide
