She almost swooned,
With the breeze and the moon
And the slipping sea,
And he beside her,
Touching her, leaning --
The ship careening,
With the white moon steadily shining over
Her and her lover,
Theodore, still her lover!
Then a quiver fell on the crowded
notes,
And slowly floated
A single note which spread and spread
Till it filled the room with a shimmer like gold,
And noises shivered throughout its length,
And tried its strength.
They pulled it, and tore it,
And the stuff waned thinner, but still it bore
it.
Then a wide rent
Split the arching tent,
And balls of fire spurted through,
Spitting yellow, and mauve, and blue.
One by one they were quenched as they fell,
Only the blue burned steadily.
Paler and paler it grew, and -- faded -- away.
Herr Altgelt
stopped.
Well, Lottachen, my Dear, what do you say?
I think Im in good trim. Now lets have dinner.
Whats this, my Love, youre very sweet to-day.
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2016-03-17
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