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There came a stranger to our halls; he bore High rank and honour in the emperor's court, From whom he brought a greeting to our king. It doth not need to paint his lofty step, His falcon eye; he won him many hearts; Such triumphs then were surest road to mine. I loved Count Herman—passionately loved; And I, methinks, grew better for that love; For early love brings with it gentleness, And self-distrust, and timid cares; love feels Its own unworthiness, and I felt mine— Conscious of faults I never dreamed before. Had my affection been less rashly placed It had been better for my happiness; But Herman loved in that frivolity Which most destroys our nature's higher part. He woke in me no great and noble thoughts, No generous imaginings; the mind, Stirred by the feelings to its inward depths, Was a mysterious sea he sounded not; His choice was but a worldly preference, And mutable like other worldly things; It had no soul, and thence no certainty: For constancy is but love's spiritual part. Count Herman left our court with many vows; How he fulfilled them one short summer taught, Which saw him wedded in his native land. Not 'mid the quiet influences around—