My wounded heart speedily healed, and the better my physical and mental condition became the more my demon stirred within me.

It was no merit of mine if I was not dubbed "the foolhardy Ebers" here also.
The summer in Quedlinburg was a delightful season of mingled work and pleasure.

An Easter journey through the Hartz with some gay companions, which included an ascent of the Brocken--already once climbed from Keilhau--is among my most delightful memories.
Like the Thuringian Mountains, the Hartz are also wreathed with a garland of legends and historical memories.

Some of its fairest blossoms are in the immediate vicinity of Quedlinburg.

These and the delight in nature with which I here renewed my old bond tempted more than one of us to write, and very different poems, deeper and with more true feeling, than those produced in Kottbus.