61.
All night in vision behold I thee,
And see thee greeting me kindly;
And loudly weeping then throw I me
Before thy sweet feet blindly.
With sorrowing looks thou stand’st in my view,
Thy fair locks mournfully shaking;
While teardrops bright of pearly hue
From thy dear eyes are breaking.
A gentle word thou dost secretly say,
And givest a cypress-wreath sweetly;
I awake, and the wreath has vanish’d away,
And the word is forgotten completely.