The Werewolf

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!