I dreamt of the daughter of a king,
With white cheeks tear-bewetted;
We sat ‘neath the lime tree’s leavy ring,
In love’s embraces netted.
“I would not have thy father’s throne,
His crown or his golden sceptre;
I want my lovely princess alone--
From Fate that so long hath kept her.”
“That cannot be,” she said to me:
“I lie in the grave uncheerly;
And only at night I come to thee,
Because I love thee so dearly.”