Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 448

Sir Doctor, in a walk with you

There's honor and instruction too;

Yet here alone I care not to resort,

Because I coarseness hate of every sort.

This fiddling, shouting, skittling, I detest;

I hate the tumult of the vulgar throng;

They roar as by the evil one possess'd,

And call it pleasure, call it song.

PEASANTS (under the linden-tree)

Dance and Sing.

The shepherd for the dance was dress'd,

With ribbon, wreath, and colored vest,

A gallant show displaying.

And round about the linden-tree,

They footed it right merrily.

Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! He!

So fiddle-bow was braying.

Our swain amidst the circle press'd,

He push'd a maiden trimly dress'd,

And jogg'd her with his elbow;

The buxom damsel turn'd her head,

"Now that's a stupid trick!" she said,

Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! He!

Don't be so rude, good fellow!

Swift in the circle they advanced,

They danced to right, to left they danced,

And all the skirts were swinging.

And they grew red, and they grew warm,

Panting, they rested arm in arm,

Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! He!

To hip their elbow bringing.

Don't make so free! How many a maid

Has been betroth'd and then betray'd;

And has repented after!

Yet still he flatter'd her aside,

And from the linden, far and wide,

Juchhe! Juchhe!

Juchheisa! Heisa! He!

Rang fiddle-bow and laughter.