HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

72 ^tim.
" My love, I cannot raise me.
My head is bleeding too;
When thou wast stolen from me,
I shot it through and through."
" I with my hair, dear Henry,
Will stop the fountain red.
Press back again the blood-stream.
And heal thy wounded head."
She begged so soft, so dearly,
I could no more say no;
I tried and strove to raise me.
And to my darling go.
Then the wounds again burst open :
With torrent force outbreak
From head and breast the bloodstreams
;
And see! I came awake.
WELLINGTON AND
NAPOLEON.
Wellington, the dull ghost, with an
ashy grey soul in a buckram body, a
wooden smile on his freezing face — and
by his side one thinks of the figure of
Napoleon, every inch a god!