The Lost City Under the Seadetails

Soft sighs the breeze, soft flows the wave,

Swift flies the vessel on her way,

To yonder ledge of chalky rock.

“There,” says the captain, “Julin lay.”

Julin, the city by the sea,

Swept by the silent flood away.

How comes the old tradition back

To my foreboding heart to-day

I think how in my childhood days,

My soul rejoiced in fabled lore;

My sister many a wondrous tale

Told me at eve beside the door.

Clearly my mind recalls the scene:

We sat upon a bench of stone;

In the next garden lindens bloomed;

The moon in heaven brightly shone.

The slender Gothic gables rose

Solemnly where the shadows fell,

And now and then rang out o’erhead

The chimes of sweet St. Mary’s bell.

Then in we went to evening prayers;

Then slumber soothed my childish brain,

And I the buried cities built

In splendor in my dreams again.

O boyish dreams, so bright, so pure,

O youthful joys, where did ye flee?

Soft sighs the breeze, soft flows the wave:

Julin—Vineta—where are ye?

Es rauscht der Wind, es rinnt die Welle,

Beflügelt schwebt das schiff dahin;

An jenes Kreidefelsens Schwelle,

Dort, sagt der Schiffer, lag Julin,

Julin, die hohe Stadt am Sunde,

Die still die Meerfluth überschwoll;

Wie klingt die fabelhafte Kunde

Mit an das Herz erinnrungscoll.