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And longer still waxes his beard;But the maiden so fair in his arms grows amain,

But you smiled in return, you sensible pastor, replying"Pray jump in, nor fear with both body and spirit to trust me,For this hand to hold the reins has long been accustom'd,And these eyes are train'd to turn the corner with prudence.For we were wont to drive the carriage, when living at Strasburg,At the time when with the young baron I went there, for daily,Driven by me, through the echoing gateway thunder'd the carriageBy the dusty roads to distant meadows and lindens,Through the crowds of the people who spend their lifetime in walking."

By the fast setting sun;The pensive fair maiden