78 CHAMOIS HUNTING. 



There may be palm-treed oases, 



Well- deserving all their praises ; 



But such pastures strewn with daisies, 

 Uplands musical with wellings, 

 You will find but round the dwellings 

 Of verdant Baierisch Zell. 



Looking up, my comrade started, 

 Grazed and gazed, with lips still parted, 

 At a maiden who, light-hearted, 



Singing, village-wards came wending, 

 Where the trout-stream makes a bending, 

 Not far from Baierisch Zell. 



'Twas a piece of spotless nature, 

 Fresh of soul and fair of feature, — 

 A young, guileless, healthy creature, 



Tripping on beside the water. 



" Who is she ?" " The Verderer's daughter, 



That lives in Baierisch Zell. 



" We will at his cottage tarry, 



And our chamois thither carry ; 



You may then converse with Marie." 



" What, you know her ?" " Since two summers 

 She is shy though of new-comers, 

 This maid of Baierisch Zell." 



So we entered. — Within, neatly 

 All was ordered ; plain and meetly ; 

 She was there too, she who sweetly 



Through the valley had been singing, 



Till with echoes it was ringing ; 

 This vale of Baierisch Zell. 



Brown her cheek, but fresh and glowing, 

 Health, and strength, and vigour showing, — 

 A wild flower of Nature's growing. 



She was modest as a daisy, 



Springing up beside the mazy 

 Brooklet of Baierisch Zell. 



