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!