19.05.2008, 10:02
Old Towns in Germany
Ye quaint old towns by German streams and rills,
Where still the ghosts of former days survive;
So quiet, yet to every wind alive
That blows upon you from the purple hills.
Your restfulness the soul's wild longing stills:
Your every home a dreamy little hive
Where the first builder's children's children thrive,
As once he thrived amid life's joys and ills.
Thy well kept church, the center of your love,
The churchyard in the shadow of the spire,
With many a dear one's simple monument:
The old-world garden, and the hillside grove,
These are the roses of your heart's desire
Within the magic circle of content.
Ye quaint old towns by German streams and rills,
Where still the ghosts of former days survive;
So quiet, yet to every wind alive
That blows upon you from the purple hills.
Your restfulness the soul's wild longing stills:
Your every home a dreamy little hive
Where the first builder's children's children thrive,
As once he thrived amid life's joys and ills.
Thy well kept church, the center of your love,
The churchyard in the shadow of the spire,
With many a dear one's simple monument:
The old-world garden, and the hillside grove,
These are the roses of your heart's desire
Within the magic circle of content.