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Contrary to my usual custom, I did not go home at all during the afternoon, the fine weather having tempted me to spend the whole afternoon in walking, and the evening at the Banda, "auf der Wieden," and thus I was not aware of your wish till I returned home. In the mean time, whenever Y.I.H. desires it, I am ready at any hour or moment to place myself at your disposal.
It was left to her, at the last moment, to make a show of excusing herself, an attempt so brave and yet so wretchedly lame that I tingled all over with hot shame. She only made matters worse, and Davies interrupted her. 'Auf Wiedersehen, he said, simply. She shook her head, did not even offer her hand, and pulled away; Davies turned sharp round and went below.
I had myself never been a great reader of his poetry, when I met him, though when I was a boy of ten years I had heard my father repeat passages from the Biglow Papers against war and slavery and the war for slavery upon Mexico, and later I had read those criticisms of English poetry, and I knew Sir Launfal must be Lowell in some sort; but my love for him as a poet was chiefly centred in my love for his tender rhyme, 'Auf Wiedersehen', which I can not yet read without something of the young pathos it first stirred in me.
We were hushed and oppressed, as if each felt the weight of the great mountain-mass over us. The miners were not at work on that day, but like gnomes they were silently coming and going in the shadows, never omitting the "Glück auf!" as they met and parted. There were long, weary stairs to climb. Finally we came to a little car running on a narrow inclined track.
With special reference to the career of Charles III of Spain: Joseph Addison, Charles III of Spain ; M. A. S. Hume, Spain, its Greatness and Decay, 1479-1788 , ch. xiv, xv; Francois Rousseau, Regne de Charles III d'Espagne, 1759- 1788, 2 vols. , the best and most exhaustive work on the subject; Gustav Diercks, Geschichte Spaniens von der fruhesten Zeiten bis auf die Gegenwart, 2 vols.
I had felt, without clearly knowing the reason, that when Albertine Zehme so eloquently declaimed the lines of Madonna, the sixth stanza of part one, beginning "Steig, o Mutter aller Schmerzen, auf den Altar meiner Töne!" that the background of poignant noise supplied by the composer was more than apposite, and in the mood-key of the poem.
Besides, the man's back was turned towards him and his face was half hidden in the grass. Schulz prowled along the road and about the meadow with his heart beating: "It is he ... No, it is not he..." He dared not call to him. An idea struck him; he began to sing the last bars of Christophe's Lied: "Auf!
After this and much other pleasant chat, he put out his hand and said, ``Auf Wiedersehen''; and so we parted, each to take his own way into eternity. The other farewells to me were also gratifying.
She wished she could place her hands on either side of its slenderness and feel the delicate skull and gaze undisturbed into the eyes. Fraulein Pfaff rose at last from the table. "Na, Kinder," she smiled, holding her arms out to them all. She turned to the nearest window. "Die Fenster auf!" she cried, in quivering tones, "Die Herzen auf!" "Up with windows! Up with hearts!"
And so he went off, waving his green hat to us and calling out Auf Wiedersehen till the forest engulfed him. Herr von Inster and the Graf went too, but quietly. The Graf went exceedingly quietly. He hadn't said a word to anybody, as far as I could see, and no rallyings on the part of the Colonel could make him.
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