Classic Poem

Beneath the young May moon's tender glance,
The damsels of Tubingen held their dance:
They danced and they danced by the moonbeams pale,
Round the linden tree in the glimmering vale.
A youthful stranger, richly arrayed,
Addressed him soon to the fairest maid:
His hand for a dance he offers her there,
He places a sea-green wreath in her hair.
" Young man, young man, why so cold thy arm?"
" In the depths of the Neckar it never is warm!"
" Young man, young man, why so cold thy hand?"
" The sun never burns on the deep sea-sand!"
He danced with her far from the linden tree, —
" Stop, young man, my mother is calling me!"
He danced with her down to the Neckar's shore, —
" Young man, I tremble! no more, no more!"
Around the slim waist he clasps her: now,
Fair maid, the Merman's bride art thou!
He waltzes with her into the brine:
" Oh, father! and ah, thou mother of mine!"
He leads her down to a crystal hall:
" Farewell, in the green vale, ye sisters all!"