Above Coblenz where the Rhine flows through hills covered with
vineyards, there is a steep rock, round which many a legend has been
woven--the Lurlei Rock. The boatman gazes up at its gigantic summit
with awful reverence when his boat glides over the waters at twilight.
Like chattering children the restless waves whisper round the rock,
telling wonderful tales of its doings. Above on its gray head, the
legend relates that a beautiful but false nymph, clothed in white with
a wreath of stars in her flowing hair, used to sit and sing sweet
songs, until a sad tragedy drove her forever away.
Long long ago, when night in her dark garment descended from the
hills, and her silent comrade, the pale moon, cast a silver bridge
over the deep green stream, the soft voice of a woman was heard from
the rock, and a creature of divine beauty was seen on its summit. Her
golden locks flowed like a queenly mantle from her graceful shoulders,
covering her snow-white raiment so that her tenderly-formed body
appeared like a cloud of light. Woe to the boatsman who passed the
rock at the close of day! As of old, men were fascinated by the
heavenly song of the Grecian hero, so was the unhappy voyager allured
by this being to sweet forgetfulness, his eyes, even as his soul,
would be dazzled, and he could no longer steer clear of reefs and
cliffs, and this beautiful siren only drew him to an early grave.
Forgetting all else, he would steer towards her, already dreaming of
having reached her; but the jealous waves would wash round his boat
and at last dash him treacherously against the rocks. The roaring
waters of the Rhine would drown the cries of agony of the victim who
would never be seen again.
But the virgin to whom no one had ever approached, continued every
night to sing soft and low, till darkness vanished in the first rays
of light, and the great star of day drove the gray mists from the
valley.