’Land of greenwood and
Sparkling wavelets of the Rhine,
Hushed thy song, afar thy gleam.
All to me, now, but a dream.
’Oft when I these eyelids
Purling sounds haunt my repose,
Vessels in the sunlight’s ray,
’Fore the wind, speed on their way.
’Lovely home on German
Once my own, but ne’er again,
Thou wilt be to mem’ry dear
Till they place me on my bier.’
[Footnote 194: The first three verses of the dedication in Rumaenische Dichtungen, by Carmen Sylva (the Queen’s nom de plume), Leipzig, W. Friedrich, 1881. Lest our halting verse should prejudice the illustrious authoress, we append the original for those who know German:—
’Du Rebenland, du gruener
Du Rhein mit deinem Schimmer:
Dein Glanz ist fern, dein Sang verhallt,
Ich bin entflohn fuer immer!
‘Oft, oft schliess’
ich die Angen zu,
Dann hoer’ ich’s singen, rauschen,
Seh’ Schiffe zieh’n in sonn’ger Ruh’,
Den Wind die Segel bauschen.
‘Dass ich die schoenste
In deutschen Gau’n besessen,
Das macht, dass ich sie bis zum Grab
Nun nimmer kann vergessen.’
But her Majesty, who is a Protestant, is not the only lady now living who has made her mark in Roumanian history. There is another of whom we are sure our readers will be glad to hear something, for she is an accomplished Englishwoman, and it is very questionable whether, after all, the Roumanians do not owe their independence as much to her energy and devotion as to any other cause; we mean Madame Rosetti, the wife of the Home Secretary. It was mentioned in our historical summary that the patriots of 1848 made their escape to France in that year, and that they returned after the Crimean war in 1856. That is a long story told in a, couple of sentences, and but for Madame Rosetti it is probable they would never have escaped, but would have languished and died in a Turkish prison in Bosnia, whilst Roumania might have been at this day a Turkish pashalik or a Russian province. The fact is that all the leaders of the revolution, fifteen in number, were arrested and conveyed on board a Turkish man-of-war lying in the