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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
Germany: Vols. XVII–XVIII. 1876–79.


At Badenweiler

By Anonymous

THERE is a grave overlooked by summer skies,

Where lieth one whose noble dreams are o’er;

On whose pale stone the paler moonlight lies,

As if, from bleeding kindred hearts, it bore

The tender messages that would be heard no more.

Where the imperial river sweeps along

Through the green valley, with its vineyards spread,

The soft waves, singing nature’s cradle-song,

Seem as if singing to the hills o’erhead

Their own pathetic requiem for the exiled dead.

When the low setting sun gives back to day

The rapturous flush of its triumphant flight,

Kissing the tops of mountains far away,

Then, as if dropping from the golden height

On this lone grave, falls the last lingering ray of light.

Or when the stars in solemn grandeur rise

With their pale splendor flashing through the deep,

Like friendly lamps relit in foreign skies,

Lo! as if smiling o’er his dreamless sleep,

All silently they come, their nightly watch to keep.

O blissful sleeper! though your grassy mound

By tears of kindred never may be wet,

Yet in the eyes of nature may be found

A sweet consoling for their love’s regret,

And the eternal love that never doth forget.

Yea! life’s great river with its waters clear

Through heavenly vineyards shall hereafter sweep,

And unto us what seems the saddest here

God shall interpret when we fall asleep,

No “wherefores” to perplex, and nevermore to weep.