I’ve often this strange and impressive dream
Of an unknown lady,I love and loves me,
And who each time is neither the same deemed
Nor different who loves and understands me.
For she knows me, and my crystal-clear heart
For her only is not a puzzling part.
For she alone of my pale sweaty brow
To freshen up with tears she does know how.
Is she married, or single? I know not
Her name? I recall it sweet, and nice-sounding
Like those of the belov’d that life’s banished.
Her look is so much like that of profiles
And her voice that’s far off and calm and grave
Sounds like those that are loved and fallen still.
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