II I cannot grasp or believe it, A dream has bewitched me quite. Why was it that me of all maidens He raised to this happiest height? 20 It seemed as if he had spoken: I am thine eternally— It seemed—I still must be dreaming! It cannot, cannot be. Oh, let me die thus dreaming, 25 And resting upon his breast, My d**h in ecstasy drinking, In tears of unending rest!