Page:Parerga.djvu/75

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Der Königssohn.
65
VI.In the wood's dark rounds a wild horse bounds,Unbridled yet his head,Of golden grain his long thick mane,Earth sparkles at his tread.
The King's Son lightly swung him on,The horse the rider cheereth,With puff'd-out breast the snorting beastAnd lashing tail careereth.
And all that dwell within the dellAre lost in list'ning wonder,To hear that steed from the mountain speedAdown like storm and thunder.
The Son of the King came gallopingIn his lion-hide attire;On as he rode, the wild mane flowed,And the wild hoofs scatter'd fire.
And all the nation throng'd around,With jubilee and song—"'Tis he! 'tis he! it is the King,"For whom we've stayed so long!"
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