| Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807–1882). Complete Poetical Works. 1893. | | | | Translations | From the German.
The Legend of the Crossbill |
| | | | (Der Kreuzschnabel, No. 3)
By Julius Mosen |
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ON the cross the dying Saviour | |
| Heavenward lifts his eyelids calm, | |
| Feels, but scarcely feels, a trembling | |
| In his pierced and bleeding palm. | |
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| And by all the world forsaken, | 5 |
| Sees He how with zealous care | |
| At the ruthless nail of iron | |
| A little bird is striving there. | |
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| Stained with blood and never tiring, | |
| With its beak it doth not cease, | 10 |
| From the cross ’t would free the Saviour, | |
| Its Creator’s Son release. | |
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| And the Saviour speaks in mildness: | |
| “Blest be thou of all the good! | |
| Bear, as token of this moment, | 15 |
| Marks of blood and holy rood!” | |
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| And that bird is called the crossbill; | |
| Covered all with blood so clear, | |
| In the groves of pine it singeth | |
| Songs, like legends, strange to hear. | 20 | | |
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