Pictures of Travel, 15.
When I before thy dwelling,
At morning happen to be,
I rejoice, my little sweet one
When thee at thy window I see.
With thy dark brown eyes so piercing
My figure thou dost scan:
Who art thou, and what ails thee?
Thou strange and sickly man?
“I am a German poet.
Well known in the German land;
When the best names in it are reckon’d,
My name amongst them will stand.
My little one, that which ails me
Ails crowds in the German lands;
When the fiercest sorrows are reckon’d,
My sorrows amongst them will stand.”