Like my fair bride's, the beautiful, the blue—
The wolf!—ah, horror! 'tis herself I've slain!
I feel it, like a fire within my brain,
And on my heart—no tear is in mine eye—
For her alone I lived,—with her I die."
The stream is near, he lifts her as a child,
While from his o'erpressed heart there bursts a wild
And fiendish laugh,—the peasants wondering hear,
And in a crowd assemble, half in fear:
In the broad moonlight then, as in a dream,