Poems (Bushnell)/Two Songs

by Frances Louisa Bushnell

For works with similar titles, see Two Songs.

XXXVII
TWO SONGS

[From The German of Heinrich Heine]

I.

My heart, my heart is heavy,
 But gayly glances the May;
I stand and lean on the linden,
 High up on the bastion gray.

The city's moat below me
 Flows still and blue as the sky;
A boy on its sleepy current,
 Goes fishing and whistling by.

On the smiling landscape yonder,
 In fairy and motley array,
Are oxen and meadow and woodland
 And gardens and children at play.

The maidens, at their bleaching,
 On the greensward go and come;
The mill-wheel scatters jewels,
 I hear its distant hum.

Up on the old gray tower
 A sentry-box shows brown;
A tall red-coated fellow
 Goes marching up and down.

He trifles with his musket,
 That shines in the sunlight red;
He presents it and he shoulders,—
 I wish he would shoot me dead!

II.

They have, indeed, tormented
 And maddened me with fate;
Some with their love have done it,
 And others with their hate.

With wine they've mingled poison,
 And with the bread I ate;
Some with their love have done it,
 And others with their hate.

But she, who more than any
 Can torture, wound, and move,
Is she that does not hate me,
 And yet that does not love.