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HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

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In the hall the tapers flicker.<br />

With the eddying stream of dancers.<br />

And the rolling drums are beaten.<br />

Shrill the clamorous trumpet soundeth.<br />

"Cold as ice I feel thy fingers,"<br />

Whispers Clara, thrilled with terror.<br />

"At thy bidding I came hither."<br />

And they rush on in the vortex.<br />

"Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!<br />

Like a corpse's scent thy breath is."<br />

Once again, the gloomy sentence,<br />

"At thy bidding I came hither."<br />

And the firm floor glows and rustles,<br />

Merry sound the horns and fiddles;<br />

Like a woof of strange enchantment.<br />

All within the hall is whirling.<br />

"Leave me, leave me, Don Ramiro!"<br />

All is waving and revolving.<br />

Don Ramiro still repeateth,<br />

"At thy bidding I came hither."<br />

41

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