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LongingLonging
Longing
The castled crag of Drachenfels
Frowns o`er the wide and winding Rhine,
Whose breast of waters broadly swells
Between the banks which bear the vine.
And hills all rich with blossom`d trees,
And fields which promise corn and wine,
And scatter`d cities crowning these,
Whose far white walls along them shine,
Have strew`d a scene, which I should see
With double joy wert thou with me.
And peasant girls, with deep blue eyes,
And hands which offer early flowers,
Walk smiling o`er this paradise:
Above, the frequent feudal towers
Through green leaves lift their walls of gray;
And many a rock which steeply lowers,
And noble arch in proud decay,
Look o`er this vale of vintage - bowers;
But one thing want these banks of Rhine, -
Thy gentle hand to clasp in mine!
I send the lilies give to me;
Though long before thy hand they touch,
I know that they must wither`d be,
But yet reject them not as such;
For I have cherish`d them as dear,
Because they yet may meet thine eye,
And guide thy soul to mine even here,
When thou behold`st them, drooping nigh,
And know`st them gather`d by the Rhine,
And offer`d from my heart to thine!
The river nobly foams and flows,
The charm of this enchanted ground,
And all its thousand turns disclose
Some fresher beauty varying round:
The haughtiest breast its wish might bound
Through life to dwell delighted here;
Nor could on earth a spot be found
To nature and to me so dear,
Could thy dear eyes in following mine
Still sweeten more these banks of Rhine!
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