Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/134

112 The three holy kings are friendly and mild They seek the Mother, and seek the Child; The pious Joseph is sitting by, The ox and the ass on their litter lie.

We're bringing gold, we're bringing myrrh, The women incense always prefer; And if we have wine of a worthy growth, We three to drink like six are not loth.

As here we see fair lads and lasses, But not a sign of oxen or asses, We know that we have gone astray, And so go further on our way.

 BALLAD

in, dear old man, come inside, do come on! Down here in the hall we shall be quite alone, And the gate we will lock altogether. For, mother is praying, and father is gone To shoot the wild wolves on the heather. Oh! sing us a tale, then again and again, That my brother and I learn the measure; To hear a fine minstrel we shall be so fain, The children will listen with pleasure.

"In terror of night, during hostile attack, On house full of splendour he's turning his back, His most precious things he did bury. 