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    Chapter 16

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    CHAPTER XVI An Ancient Legend of the Rhine [The Lorelei]

    The last legend reminds one of the "Lorelei"--a legend of the Rhine.
    There is a song called "The Lorelei."

    Germany is rich in folk-songs, and the words and airs of several of them
    are peculiarly beautiful--but "The Lorelei" is the people's favorite. I
    could not endure it at first, but by and by it began to take hold of me,
    and now there is no tune which I like so well.

    It is not possible that it is much known in America, else I should have
    heard it there. The fact that I never heard it there, is evidence that
    there are others in my country who have fared likewise; therefore, for
    the sake of these, I mean to print the words and music in this chapter.
    And I will refresh the reader's memory by printing the legend of the
    Lorelei, too. I have it by me in the LEGENDS OF THE RHINE, done into
    English by the wildly gifted Garnham, Bachelor of Arts. I print the
    legend partly to refresh my own memory, too, for I have never read it
    before.

    THE LEGEND

    Lore (two syllables) was a water nymph who used to sit on a high rock
    called the Ley or Lei (pronounced like our word LIE) in the Rhine, and
    lure boatmen to destruction in a furious rapid which marred the channel
    at that spot. She so bewitched them with her plaintive songs and her
    wonderful beauty that they forgot everything else to gaze up at her, and
    so they presently drifted among the broken reefs and were lost.

    In those old, old times, the Count Bruno lived in a great castle near
    there with his son, the Count Hermann, a youth of twenty. Hermann had
    heard a great deal about the beautiful Lore, and had finally fallen very
    deeply in love with her without having seen her. So he used to wander to
    the neighborhood of the Lei, evenings, with his Zither and "Express his
    Longing in low Singing," as Garnham says. On one of these occasions,
    "suddenly there hovered around the top of the rock a brightness of
    unequaled clearness and color, which, in increasingly smaller circles
    thickened, was the enchanting figure of the beautiful Lore.

    "An unintentional cry of Joy escaped the Youth, he let his Zither fall,

    and with extended arms he called out the name of the enigmatical Being,
    who seemed to stoop lovingly to him and beckon to him in a friendly
    manner; indeed, if his ear did not deceive him, she called his name with
    unutterable sweet Whispers, proper to love. Beside himself with delight
    the youth lost his Senses and sank senseless to the earth."

    After that he was a changed person. He went dreaming about, thinking
    only of his fairy and caring for naught else in the world. "The old
    count saw with affliction this changement in his
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