Of whom each by her beauty

Should have been queen in duty.

Whoe'er had seen them surely would

Have drawn from such sight fresh bold mood.

Many hearts grew rich with joy.

Now began the great tourney

Of the servants and of the guests.
The boldest and the best

Up and down the track now paced.

Noble Mark ahead e'er raced

With his fellow Riwalin,

Whose knights following close and keen.
Their play to guide ever

Did nobly endeavor

In their master's glory,

For future song and story.

Many a horse, in overdress

Of cloth or half silk, in the race

Was seen on the meadow clover;

Many a snow-white cover

There shone, or red, brown, green, or blue;

Others again, for show, wore too

Robes with noble silk worked nice,

Or scalloped in many a quaint device,
Parted, striped, or braided,

Or with trimmings shaded.
Gayly, too, appeared there

Knights of handsome form and fair,
Their armor slit, as if cut to pieces.
Even Spring with its balmy breezes,
King Mark its high favor showed;

For many people in the crowd

Were crowned with wreaths of flowers wrought, Which, as his offering, Spring had brought.

In such glorious, blessed May,

Began the blessed tourney.

Oft intermixed, the double troop

Rode up this grade, rode down that slope.

This carried they on so long that day,
Till downward swept the glorious play

To where Blanchefleur sat, the sweet,
Whom I as wonder greet,

With pretty women at her side,

To watch the show and the gallant ride;

And how they rode so nobly all,
With carriage imperial,

That many an eye with pleasure lit.
But whatsoever others did,

Still 'twas the courtly Riwalin

As 'twas, indeed, meet to have been-
Who before all the knighthood rare
Best showed his knightly power there.
The women, too, him notice showed,
And whispered that, in all the crowd,
No one on horse appearing

Rode with such gallant bearing.

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They praised that which in him was shown.
"See!" said they,-"see! this youth fine-grown,
This man, is truly glorious!

How gloriously sits all he does,

Sit all movements of his bearing!

How his body is fair-appearing!

How joins with equal grace on him

Each imperial limb!

How evenly his shield is moved!

As if fast-glued, it floats aloft!
How doth the shaft his hand befit!

How well his robes upon him sit!
How stands his head! how glows his hair!
Sweet his behavior he doth wear;
Glorified is his body all!

Ah, happy is the woman who shall
Her bliss owe his sweet body."

Well pondered this in study
Blanchefleur, the blessed maid;
In her secret heart she had,

Above all knights, addressed to him

Her pleasant thoughts, her wond'rings dim.
She had him in her heart enshrined,

He had around her soul him twined;

He bore upon high throne

The sceptre and the crown

In the kingdom of her heart,

Although the secret she did guard,
And from the world keep, as was fit,
That no one e'er suspected it.

Translation of A. E. Kroeger.

SONG OF HEINRICH VON VELDECHE

O THANKS to Tristan that his heart had been
Faithful and true unto his queen;

N°

For thereto did a potion move

More than the power of love:
Sweet thought to me,

That ne'er such cup my lips have prest;
Yet deeper love than ever he
Conceived, dwells in my breast:
So may it be!

So constant may it rest!

Call me but thine

As thou art mine!

Translation of Edgar Taylor.

SONG OF HEINRICH VON MORUNGEN

Y LADY dearly loves a pretty bird,

Μι That sings and echoes back her gentle tone;

Were I, too, near her, never should be heard

A songster's note more pleasant than my own,

Sweeter than sweetest nightingale I'd sing.

For thee, my lady fair,

This yoke of love I bear:

Deign thou to comfort me, and ease my sorrowing.

Were but the troubles of my heart by her
Regarded, I would triumph in my pain;
But her proud heart stands firmly, and the stir
Of passionate grief o'ercomes not her disdain.
Yet, yet I do remember how before

My eyes she stood and spoke,

And on her gentle look

My earnest gaze was fixed: oh, were it so once more!

Translation of Edgar Taylor.

SONG OF HEINRICH VON MORUNGEN

M

INE is the fortune of a simple child,

That in the glass his image looks upon;
And by the shadow of himself beguiled
Breaks quick the brittle charm, and joy is gone.
So gazed I-and I deemed my joy would last-
On the bright image of my lady fair:
But ah! the dream of my delight is past,
And love and rapture yield to dark despair.

Translation of Edgar Taylor.

SONG OF COUNT KRAFT VON TOGGENBURG

D

OES any one seek the soul of mirth,
Let him hie to the greenwood tree,

And there beneath the verdant shade,

The bloom of the summer see;

For there sing the birds right merrily,
And there will the bounding heart upspring
To the lofty clouds on joyful wing.

On the hedge-rows spring a thousand flowers,
And he from whose heart sweet May
Hath banished care, finds many a joy:
And I too would be gay,

Were the load of pining care away;

Were my lady kind, my soul were light,—
Joy crowning joy would raise its flight.

The flowers, leaves, hills, the vale, and mead,
And May with all its light,

Compared with the roses are pale indeed,

Which my lady bears; and bright

My eyes will shine as they meet my sight —

Those beautiful lips of rosy hue,

As red as the rose just steeped in dew.

Translation of Edgar Taylor.

SONG OF STEINMAR

WITH

ITH the graceful corn upspringing, With the birds around me singing, With the leaf-crowned forests waving, Sweet May-dews the herbage laving,

With the flowers that round me bloom,

To my lady dear I'll come:

All things beautiful and bright,

Sweet in sound and fair to sight –
Nothing, nothing is too rare
For my beauteous lady fair;
Everything I'll do and be,
So my lady solace me.

She is one in whom I find

All things fair and bright combined.
When her beauteous form I see,
Kings themselves might envy me;
Joy with joy is gilded o'er,

Till the heart can hold no more.
She is bright as morning sun,
She my fairest, loveliest one:
For the honor of the fair,
I will sing her beauty rare;
Everything I'll do and be,
So my lady solace me.

Solace me, then, sweetest! - be
Such in heart as I to thee;
Ope thy beauteous lips of love,
Call me thine, and then above
Merrily, merrily I will sail

With the light clouds on the gale.
Dear one, deign my heart to bless!

Steer me on to happiness!

Thou, in whom my soul confideth,

Thou, whose love my spirit guideth!
Everything I'll do and be,

So my lady solace me.

Translation of Edgar Taylor.