Claverhouse over 9 years ago [hidden] I KNOW not whence it rises,This thought so full of woe;But a tale of times departedHaunts me, and will not go.The air is cool, and it darkens,And calmly flows the Rhine,The mountain-peaks are sparklingIn the sunny evening-shine.And yonder sits a maiden,The fairest of the fair;With gold is her garment glittering,And she combs her golden hair:With a golden comb she combs it;And a wild song singeth she.That melts the heart with a wondrousAnd powerful melody.The boatman feels his bosomWith a nameless longing move;He sees not the gulfs before him,His gaze is fixed above.Till over boat and boatmanThe Rhine's deep waters run:And this, with her magic singing,The Lore-lei has done !Heine 1 Reply Copy ID Copy Link