delusion dear! Thou lingerest at the fatal door, Thou dread'st to see her face
once more? On! While thou dalliest, draws her death - hour near.
(He seizes the lock. Singing within.)
My mother, the harlot, She took me and slew! My father, the scoundrel, Hath
eaten me too! My sweet little sister Hath all my bones laid, Where soft
breezes whisper All in the cool shade!
Then became I a wood - bird, and sang on the spray, Fly away! little bird, fly
Ah! she forebodes not that her lover's near, The clanking chains, the rustling