  She Nay; still amort, my love?—Why dost thou lag? He The strix-owl cried. She Nay! 'twas yon stream that leaps Hoarse from the black pines of the Hakel steeps; Its moon-wild water glittering down the crag.— Why so aghast, sweetheart? Why dost thou stop? He The Demon Huntsman passed with hooting horn! She Nay! 'twas the blind wind sweeping through the thorn Around the ruins of the Dumburg's top. He My limbs are cold. She Come! warm thee in my arms. He My eyes are weary. She Rest, them, love, on mine. He I am athirst. She Quench, on my lips, thy thirst.— O dear belovÉd, how thy last kiss warms My blood again! He Off!... How thy eyeballs shine!— Thou beast!... thou—Ah!... thus do I die, accursed! |
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