This heart of mine which, as you might have known,
Was throbbing but to serve you!—Yes, once more,
You gain your end! Once more, your wish is mine.
How can I love?—God help me!—Go you free.”
LIII.
How fiercely then did Haydn’s music storm!
And soon he would have left our home in haste:
My father spoke to stay him. Long they spoke;
And sometimes wrathful were the words they used.
But then, at last, my father told him all,—