Description
I. It is midnight, my wedded; Let us lie under The tempest bright undreaded,* In the warm thunder: (Tremble and weep not! What can you fear?) My heart’s best wish is thine,— That thou wert white, and bedded On the softest bier, In the ghost’s moonshine. Is that the wind? No, no; Only two devils, that blow Through the murderer’s ribs to and fro, In the ghosts’ moonshine. II. Who is there, she said afraid, yet Stirring and awaking The poor old dead? His spade, it Is only making,— (Tremble and weep not! What do you crave?) Where yonder grasses twine, A pleasant bed, my maid, that Children call a grave, In the cold moonshine. Is that the wind? No, no; Only two devils, that blow Through the murderer’s ribs to and fro, In the ghosts’ moonshine. III. What doest thou strain above her Lovely throat’s whiteness? A silken chain, to cover Her bosom’s brightness? (Tremble and weep not: what do you fear?) —My blood is spilt like wine, Thou hast strangled and slain me, lover, Thou hast stabbed me, dear, In the ghosts’ moonshine.
Product ID: 9781776743872
Sku: P3-E3PV-H8HN