Thou dearest, dearest one of all on earth!

To clasp thee with my arms, which were but thrown

On the void winds before! Oh, give me way!

Give my soul’s rapture way! The eternal fount

Leaps not more brightly forth from cliff to cliff

Of high Parnassus, down the golden vale,

Than the strong joy bursts gushing from my heart,

And swells around me to a flood of bliss—

Orestes!—O my brother!

III.