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Heinrich Heine - The Lore-Lei
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I know not whence it rises, 
This thought so full of woe ; 
But a tale of times departed 
Haunts me, and will not go.
 
The air is cool, and it darkens, 
And calmly flows the Rhine, 
The mountain-peaks are sparkling 
In 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 wondrous
And powerful melody
.
The boatman feels his bosom
With a nameless longing move ;
He sees not the gulfs before him, 
His gaze is fixed above, 

Till over boat and boatman 
The Rhine`s deep waters run : 
And this, with her magic singing, 
The Lore-lei has done !
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