[Starts up impetuously from his seat.
O lovely song,
Flower-sweet breath!
Thy yearning music
Burns in my breast!
Like leaping flame
It kindles my heart.
What races so swift
Through soul and senses?
Sweetest of friends, O say!
[He listens.
THE WOOD-BIRD'S VOICE
Grieving yet glad,
Love I am singing;
Blissful, from woe
Weaving my song:
They only who yearn understand.
SIEGFRIED
Forth, forth then,
Swift and rejoicing!
Forth from the wood to the fell!
Just one thing more
I would learn, sweet singer:
Say, shall I break through the fire?
Can I awaken the bride?
[He listens again.
THE WOOD-BIRD'S VOICE