Two Songs of Heine

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Two Songs of Heine

A fir-tree standeth lonely

On a barren northern height,

Asleep, while winter covers

His rest with robes of white.

In dreams, he sees a palm-tree

In the golden morning-land;

She droops alone and silent

In burning wastes of sand.

Fair art thou as a flower

And innocent and shy:

I look on thee and sorrow;

I grieve, I know not why.

I long to lay, in blessing,

My hand upon thy brow,

And pray that God may keep thee

As fair and pure as now.