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 hath done! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LILY IN CRYSTAL by ROBERT HERRICK ARIEL'S SONG (1) [OR, DIRGE] [OR, A SEA DIRGE]. FR. THE TEMPEST by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE TO THE REV. F.D. MAURICE by ALFRED TENNYSON COMPARISON OF LOVE TO A STREAM FALLING FROM THE ALPS by THOMAS WYATT THE BLIND MAN by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. |