There are tales they tell by the Rheinland swell
Where the cliffs stand gaunt and grey,
And the river runs through a thousand suns
Yet recalls a darker day;
The castle towers and ruined bowers
Have watched centuries pass by,
But the strangest thing by the Rhein's cold sigh
Was the Maid of Lorelei.
Now Lorelei was a vintner's child
In the days when the world was young,
And the lads would stare with a hopeless air
At the spell of her laughing tongue;
Yet she loved but one, and beneath the sun
She loved him by-and-by,
Till Death rode by with an evil eye
For the love of Lorelei.
The young man died, and the maiden cried
Till her tears made the vineyards drown,
And she climbed alone to a barren stone
High over the river brown;
Three days she wept where the great cliffs swept
Their shadows under the sky,
Then the river's gloom gave her beauty room
And remade her: Lorelei.
Now sailors swore by the stars they bore
They had seen her combing there,
Where the evening burned and the waters turned
Like molten copper fair;
And her voice would rise through the twilight skies
Like a hymn that would make God shy,
Till mast and keel would forget the wheel
For the song of Lorelei.
Many a man by the river ran
To answer her silver cry,
And many a crew was broke in two
Beneath that watchful sky;
Rhein-waves lapped on with their mournful song,
Unmoved though as they try,
And the widows prayed while the river made
More legends of Lorelei.
Now one spring night in the lantern-light
Came a sailor lean and tall,
And his eyes were clear as the waters near
The shadow of Ehrenfall;
He laughed at fate and the tales of late
That were told as they kept dry,
For he feared no ghost on the river coast
Nor the Maid of Lorelei.
A river knows what wise men may not,
And the Rhein knows most of all;
For the strongest oaths and the boldest boasts
Are the surest things to fall.
When he rounded the bend where the dark cliffs send
Their echoes oh so sly,
He lifted his head and forgot what he'd said
At the sight of Lorelei.
There are places still that can break the will
Of a man who believes he's wise;
Not by deceit, but because they meet
Some hunger behind his eyes.
And The Lorelei in the twilight shone
Into the skies so high,
Till his reason drowned in wonder found
On the heights of Lorelei.
She sat above where the river's love
Had polished the ancient rock,
With her golden hair and her distant stare
And a silver comb she'd mock;
The world grew dim at the sight of him,
And he stared as he did cry,
For the first time there, in the evening air,
She looked back: His Lorelei.
Now a siren's art is to steal the heart
And then drag the soul below,
But the tales neglect what they least expect
And the river does not show.
For the maid looked down with a troubled frown
No sailor had made her spy,
And for one brief breath she remembered death
And a girl called Lorelei.
The current roared and the helmsman swore,
But the sailor seized the wheel;
His mates cursed out and they flayed all about,
Yet stronger grew his zeal.
The black rocks lay in the dying day
Where only the ****** apply,
And the vessel sped where his longing led:
Straight toward sweet Lorelei.
Then the maiden cried—not a siren's lie,
Not a song to command or bind—
But a desperate plea cast so wild and free
Upon the rushing wind:
"Turn back! Turn back! There is only black
And grief where you think joy be!
For I know too well what it is to dwell
Outside the years," cried she.
The sailor gazed through the gathering haze
As life brought him every mile:
"If death I meet, then death is sweet
For love is to see you smile."
But she shook her head, and her face grew dread
As one who can plainly see
The shape of pain in another's gain,
And she wept for the sailor free.
For she knew at last what no spell could cast
And no river wash away:
That the cruelest loss is not tempest-tossed
Nor the ending of a day;
It is never to know the years that grow,
As the child upon your knee,
The harvest won, the setting sun—
The life denied, thought she.
Then the river howled and the dark clouds scowled
As the ship drew near the stone,
And what befell there no man can tell,
For no witness made it known.
Some say the mast was shattered fast
By the wrath of Lorelei,
And some maintain she broke the chain
Of the fate she'd lived thereby.
But the Rhein runs deep, and the Rhein will keep
Whatever truth there be;
And the oldest men by the tavern fire
Still argue endlessly...
For no one knows if he reached his rose
Or she set his plans awry—
Only the tide and the cliff beside,
And a Maid named Lorelei.
There are tales they tell by the Rheinland swell
Where the cliffs stand gaunt and grey,
And the river runs through a thousand suns
Yet remembers a darker day;
The castle towers and ruined bowers
Have watched long centuries cry,
But the strangest thing by the Rhein's cold ring
Was the love of Lorelei.
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