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C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Song: ‘Does any one seek the soul of mirth’

By Count Kraft von Toggenburg (13th Century)

Translation of Edgar Taylor

DOES any one seek the soul of mirth,

Let him hie to the greenwood tree,

And there beneath the verdant shade,

The bloom of the summer see;

For there sing the birds right merrily,

And there will the bounding heart upspring

To the lofty clouds on joyful wing.

On the hedge-rows spring a thousand flowers,

And he from whose heart sweet May

Hath banished care, finds many a joy:

And I too would be gay,

Were the load of pining care away;

Were my lady kind, my soul were light,—

Joy crowning joy would raise its flight….

The flowers, leaves, hills, the vale, and mead,

And May with all its light,

Compared with the roses are pale indeed,

Which my lady bears; and bright

My eyes will shine as they meet my sight—

Those beautiful lips of rosy hue,

As red as the rose just steeped in dew.