Exhausted on his couch again.
Thus grappled life with death anew
Till life had won the youth at last,
And slowly was the danger passed,
When Axel now could calmly view
With glance restored, though weak and dim,
The angel bending over him.
She was not like the idyl’s queen,
Who roves and sighs in groves of green,
The counterfeit of languishing,