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E
are to play the game of death to-night, my bride and
I.
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- The night is black,
the clouds in the sky are capricious, and the waves
are raving at sea.
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- We have left our bed
of dreams, flung open the door and come out, my
bride and I.
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- We sit upon a swing,
and the storm winds give us a wild push from behind.
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- My bride starts up
with fear and delight, she trembles and clings to my
breast.
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- Long have I served
her tenderly.
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- I made for her a bed
of flowers and I closed the doors to shut out the
rude light from her eyes.
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- I kissed her gently
on her lips and whispered softly in her ears till
she half swooned in languor.
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- She was lost in the
endless mist of vague sweetness.
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- She answered not to
my touch, my songs failed to arouse her.
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- To-night has come to
us the call of the storm from the wild.
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- My bride has
shivered and stood up, she has clasped my hand and
come out.
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- Her hair is flying
in the wind, her veil is fluttering, her garland
rustles over her breast.
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- The push of death
has swung her into life.
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- We are face to face
and heart to heart, my bride and I.