Was heard amidst all seasons.  Oftentimes
    The neighbours asked him why he worked so hard
    With only two to care for?  He would smile,
    Wipe his hot brow, and say, “’Twas done in love
    For sake of those in mercy left him still—­
    And hers:  he might not stay.  He could not live
    To lose them all.”  The tenderest of plants
    Required the careful’st gardening, and so
    He worked on valiantly; and if he marked
    An extra gleam of health in Trudchen’s cheeks,
    A growing strength in little Casper’s laugh,
    He bowed his head, and felt his work was paid. 
    Even as now, while sitting ’neath the tree,
    He watched the bright-hair’d image of his wife,
    Who danced before him in the evening sun,
    Holding her tiny brother by the hand.

      The frolics pause:  now Casper’s laughing head
    Rests wearily against his father’s knee
    In trusting lovingness; while Trudchen runs
    To snatch a hasty kiss (the little man,
    It may be, wonders if the tiny hand
    With which he strives to reach his father’s neck
    Will ever grow as big and brown as that
    He sees imbedded in his sister’s curls). 
    When quick as lightning’s flash up starts the smith,
    Huddles the frightened children in his arms,
    Thrusts them far back—­extends his giant frame
    And covers them as with Goliath’s shield!

      Now hark! a rushing, yelping, panting sound,
    So terrible that all stood chilled with fear;
    And in the midst of that late joyous throng
    Leapt an infuriate hound, with flaming eyes,
    Half-open mouth, and fiercely bristling hair,
    Proving that madness tore the brute to death. 
    One spring from Karl, and the wild thing was seized,
    Fast prison’d in the stalwart Vulcan’s gripe.

      A sharp, shrill cry of agony from Karl
    Was mingled with the hound’s low fever’d growl. 
    And all with horror saw the creature’s teeth
    Fixed in the blacksmith’s shoulder.  None had power
    To rescue him; for scarcely could you count
    A moment’s space ere both had disappeared—­
    The man and dog.  The smith had leapt a fence
    And gained the forest with a frantic rush,
    Bearing the hideous mischief in his arms.

      A long receding cry came on the ear,
    Showing how swift their flight; and fainter grew
    The sound:  ere well a man had time to think
    What might be done for help, the sound was hushed,
    Lost in the very distance.  Women crouched
    And huddled up their children in their arms;
    Men flew to seek their weapons.  ’Twas a change
    So swift and fearful, none could realise
    Its actual horrors—­for a time.  But now,
    The panic past, to rescue and pursuit!

      Crash! through the brake into the forest track;
    But pitchy darkness, caused by closing night
    And foliage dense, impedes the avengers’ way;
    When lo! they trip o’er something in their path!