Leaning back, and gently
pushing his head away, she whispered:
"Don't repeat verses by Heine; say something which is yours, and is
composed for me."
"That I will, Ada," he cried, and, kneeling before her, clasping her in
a close embrace and devouring her face with rapturous eyes, his whole
being wrought up to the highest pitch of emotion, he said in a rapid
improvisation, bursting from the inmost depths of his soul:
"In the shadowy hour when ghosts do flit,
Thou art to me a beauteous dream;
To thy lips I cling, yet while I love,
My happiness scarce real doth seem."
"Thy mouth and thy fair hands I kiss,
I kiss thine eyes and thy silken hair,
And should our lives end at this hour,
Still we should die a happy pair."
Her eyes were half closed, and her bosom heaved.
After a short pause, he continued slowly in a tremulous voice:
"Oh, God, that I should find thee here,
Only to cause my woe,
For thou wilt vanish from my gaze,
Ere the first cock doth crow."
"No, no," she murmured, almost inaudibly, sinking into his arms, which
clasped her wildly and ardently, pressing her to his heart, while his
lips showered kisses upon her and a sudden ecstasy began to cloud her
senses.
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