Verse > Anthologies > Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. > A Harvest of German Verse
Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans.  A Harvest of German Verse.  1916.
The Nun
By Ludwig Uhland (1787–1862)
IN the quiet convent garden
A pallid maiden dreamed.
The moon was dim above—
On drooping lashes gleamed
A tear of tender love.        5
He is dead, my faithful lover—
What blessedness for me!
Now it is right to love:
An angel he will be,
And angels I may love.        10
She walked with steps unsteady
To mother Mary’s shrine;
The image, wondrous mild,
Looked in the pale moonshine
Upon the undefiled.        15
She sank down, gazing upward,
In heavenly peace reposed,
Until her eyelids frail
In gentle death were closed;
Down fell the long, black veil.        20

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