From the German of Victor Scheffel
O’er the placid lake at even glides our boat, alone and slow,
In the sunset stand empurpled domes of everlasting snow,
From an island in the twilight dimly rise a convent’s walls:
With the chimes the chant of vespers from the grey old minster falls—
Sempiterni Fons amoris, Consolatrix tristium,
Pia Mater Salvatoris, ave Virgo virginum!
Softly rising, falling, mingling, dying, comes the solemn song,
And in dreamy undulations air and lake the tones prolong.
Still the oars, and still the heart in worship, as the sweet bells toll,
And I feel as though God’s angels bore to heaven a blessèd soul.