In historischer Schreibweise · Die Absatznummern verlinken einzelne Textstellen.
Along the gloomy Mummel-Lake The lilies bright are growing, They stoop their heads, their stalks they shake, When morning winds are blowing; But when the night is in her noon, And broad and bright the rounded moon, Uprising from the wave they stand A group of maidens on the strand.
The night-winds wake, the long reeds make Sad music for their dancing, As hand in hand is seen the band Of lily-maids advancing; In mazy flight careering light, With faces white and garments white, Till o’er their pallid cheeks is spread Once more a blush of living red.
The loud winds groan, the long reeds moan, The pine-wood pipes in chorus, The clouds athwart the moon are blown, The shadows fliker o’er us. The night-dews stuff the grass full deep, But up and down the dancers sweep, And higher, heavier than before The billows beat along the shore. Lo! from the wave a giant arm, A clenched hand intending, A dripping head with sedge o’erspread, A flowing beard depending; And thunder-like there comes a sound, Reecho’d from the rocks around: „Ye graceles daughters, hark! give o’er Back to your watery beds once more!“
The dance is o’er; if pale before, How paler grow the daughters!: „Our father calls, the down appals, Once more then to the waters!“ The mift from out the valley rise, The morning streaks anew the skies; Once more the lilies with the morrow Are waving o’er the lake of sorrow.