The most beautiful maiden sits up there, wondrously; her golden jewels sparkle, she combs her golden hair; she combs it with a golden comb and sings a song that has a wondrous, powerful melody. The sailor in the small boat is seized with wild pain; he does not look at the rocky reefs, he only looks up into the heights. I believe that the waves will eventually swallow up the sailor and the boat; and that is what lorelei did with her singing. Date: 1859.
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