I remember a house where all were good To me,
God knows, deserving no such thing: Comforting smell breathed at very entering,
Fetched fresh, as I suppose, off some sweet wood
That cordial air made those kind people a hood All over, ...
Once it smiled a silent dell Where the people did not dwell; They had gone unto the wars, Trusting to the mild-eyed stars, Nightly, from their azure towers, To keep watch above the flowers, In the midst of which all day The red sunlight lazily lay...
With crow bones all the land is white,
From the gates of morn to the gates of night
Picked clean, they lie on the cumbered ground,
And the politician's paunch is round;
O cool is the valley now And there, love, will we go For many a choir is singing now Where Love did sometime go
And hear you not the thrushes calling,
Calling us away
O cool and pleasant is the valley And there, love, will we stay
In the valley of the Pegnitz, where across broad meadow-lands Rise the blue Franconian mountains,
Nuremberg, the ancient, stands
Quaint old town of toil and traffic, quaint old town of art and song,
Memories haunt thy pointed gables...
valley of waving broom,
O lovely, lovely light,
O hear of the world, red-gold
Breast high in the blossom I stand;