I have come from the spring woods, Listen what the poplar tree, And murmuring waters counselled me. Es ist hier schön. Es rauscht so fremd und voll. So rätselhaft. Sie wiegen ihre Häupter So feierlich. Das Märchen! ja, das Märchen Hauptman THE WILD WOOD HIE AWAY, HIE AWAY IE away, hie away, Har bank and over brae, Where the copsewood is the greenest, Hie to haunts right seldom seen, Hie away, hie away. Sir Walter Scott THRICE HAPPY HE WHO BY SOME SHADY GROVE HRICE happy he who by some shady grove, his own; Though solitary, who is not alone, But doth converse with that eternal love. O how more sweet is bird's harmonious moan, Or the hoarse sobbings of the widowed dove, Than those smooth whisperings near a prince's throne, Which good make doubtful, do the evil approve! Or how more sweet is Zephyr's wholesome breath, And sighs enbalmed which new-born flowers un fold, Than that applause vain honor doth bequeath! How sweet are streams to poison drunk in gold! The world is full of horrors, troubles, slights; Woods' harmless shades have only true delights. William Drummond THE SYLVAN LIFE WHEN in the woods I wander all alone, WE The woods that are my solace and de- Which I more covet than a prince's throne, (Light heart, light foot, light food, and slumber light, These lights shall light me to old age's gate, While monarchs, whom rebellious dreams affright, Heavy with fear, death's fearful summons wait;) THE OUTLAW BRIGNALL banks are wild and fair, O, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there And as I rode by Dalton Hall, "O, Brignall banks are fresh and fair, "If, Maiden, thou wouldst wend with me, And if thou canst that riddle read, Then to the greenwood shalt thou speed, Yet sang she, “Brignall banks are fair, I'd rather rove with Edmund there "I read you, by your bugle-horn To keep the king's greenwood." "A Ranger, lady, winds his horn, And 'tis at peep of light; His blast is heard at merry morn, Yet sang she, "Brignall banks are fair, I would I were with Edmund there, "With burnished brand and musketoon I read you for a bold Dragoon But when the beetle sounds his hum, "And O! though Brignall banks be fair, And Greta woods be gay, Yet mickle must the maiden dare "Maiden! a nameless life I lead, The fiend, whose lantern lights the mead And when I'm with my comrades met, "Yet Brignall banks are fresh and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there Sir Walter Scott ENTER THESE ENCHANTED WOODS FROM The Woods of Westermain E NTER these enchanted woods, Nothing harms beneath the leaves |