21.
Once more through the halls I pass’d
Where her troth to me was plighted;
On the spot where her tears fell fast
A serpent’s brood had alighted.
22.
The night is still, and the streets are deserted,
In this house my love had her dwelling of yore;
’Tis long since she from the city departed,
Yet her house still stands on the spot as before.
There stands, too, a man, who stares up at her casement,
And wrings his hands with the weight of his woes;
I look on his face with shudd’ring amazement,—
The moon doth the form of myself disclose.
Thou pallid fellow, thou worthless double!
Why dare to mimic my love’s hard lot,
Which many a night gave me grief and trouble
In former days, on this very spot?
23.
How canst thou sleep in quiet,
And know that I’m still alive?
I burst the yoke that’s upon me,
When my olden wrath doth revive.
Dost know the ancient ballad:
How of yore a dead stripling brave
At midnight came to his loved one,
And carried her down to his grave.
Believe me, thou wondrous beauty,
Thou wondrously lovely maid,
I’m alive still, and feel far stronger
Than the whole of the dead’s brigade!