What doest thou in heaven, O moon? Say, silent moon, what doest thou? Thou risest in the evening; thoughtfully Thou wanderest o'er the plain, Then sinkest to thy rest again. And art thou never satisfied...
The damsel from the field returns, The sun is sinking in the west; Her bundle on her head she sets, And in her hand she bears A bunch of roses and of violets. To-morrow is a holiday,...