Washington Telegraph

SONG.

By Albert.

When night enwraps the dreaming earth,
Whose closed eyes smile, as, in its mirth,
Like sleep around a dreaming child,
When stars are thick on Heaven's brow,
And gaze up from the stream below,
Bright as thine eyes I love so well,
Like bright thoughts from a heart of snow,
I'll think of thee, my star, my own beloved Estelle.

When morning opens his wide eye
Upon the misty eastern hills,
And purpling all the cloudless sky,
The world with light and beauty fills;
When bud and leaf and flower rejoice,
Fed by awyet dews from heaven that fall,
And bird and bee, with merry voice,
Breathe in day's ear their glad, sweet voice.
I'll think of thee, my star, my own beloved Estelle.

When the bright thoughts, that bubble up,
Scarce leap above the fountain's brim
And well out slowly, drop by drop,
Like the sad notes of some sweet hymn
When the heart's music faints away,
Within each dim and shattered cell
When twilight, deepening into gray,
Still, still, I'll think of thee, my star, my own Estelle.

Should that death's night succeed life's day,
--Translated from the German.