e poem "Im Arm der Liebe", by Georg Scheurlin.

The following is a short passage from the story:


EXTRACT FROM "SOUGHT AND FOUND."

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF GOLO RAIMUND.

Upon the table lay Veronica's picture, which in the meantime had been sent.
The flowers, painted by her hand, appeared to him like a friendly greeting.
He took it up and regarded it a long time; then, followed a sudden
inspiration, he wrote upon the back:

(Here follows the German verse, the translation below:)

     Thy merry jest is gentle as the May,
       Thy tender heart a lily of the dell;
     Fragrant as the rose thy inmost soul,
       Thy wondrous song a sweet-toned bell.

As in sport he subscribed his name; and then, as this homage, which had so
long existed in his heart, suddenly expressed in words, stood before him,
black upon white it was to him as if another had opened his eyes and he
must guard the newly discovered secret. He placed the picture in a
portfolio, in order to lock it in his writing-desk, and his eye fell upon
the journal which had so singularly come into his hands. He laid the
portfolio beside it. Did they not belong together? Did not the mysterious
author resemble Veronica?

Like a revelation it flashed over him and so powerfully affected his
imagination that the blood mounted hotly to his temples, and, in spite of
the severe cold, he threw open the window that he might have more air.

"If it were she!" thought he; restlessly striding up and down, and yet
exultant that he had now found a trace which could be followed.

THE ARM OF LOVE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF GEORG SCHEURLIN.

     A young wife sits by a cradle nest,
     Her fair boy smiling on her breast;
     In the quiet room draws on the night,
     And she rocks and sings by the soft lamplight;
     On mother bosom the rest is deep;
     In the arm of love--so fall asleep.

     In the cool vale, 'neath sunny sky,
     We sit alone, my own and I;
     A song of joy wells in my breast,
     Ah, heart to heart, how sweet the rest!
     The brookle