Dürft' ich, Huldin, dich umfangen,
Gleich der Luft, die dich umfließt,
Und mit zitterndem Verlangen
Jeden deiner Reize küßt!
Schwebt' ich, ach mit Wohlgefallen,
Wie dein Genius, um dich,
Willig böt' ich dann zu allen
Noch so kleinen Diensten mich.
Gern hielt ich als Wachspomade...
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“dame, how the moments go—
And the bride is not ready!
Call all her tiring maids,
Paul, Jean, and Thedie.
Is this your robe, my dear?
Faith, but she ’s steady!
The bridegroom is blest who gets
Such a brave lady.”“Pardi! That throat is fair—
How he will kiss it!
Here is your kerchief, girl;
... -
To make One's Toilette — after Death
Has made the Toilette cool
Of only Taste we cared to please
Is difficult, and still —
That's easier — than Braid the Hair —
And make the Bodice gay —
When eyes that fondled it are wrenched
By Decalogues — away —