Littell's Living Age/Volume 136/Issue 1762/"Still ist die Nacht, es ruh'n die Gassen"

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Still is the night, and the streets are lone,
     My darling dwelt in this house of yore;
'Tis years since she from the city has flown,
     Yet the house stands there as it did before.

There, too, stands a man, and aloft stares he,
     And for stress of anguish he wrings his hands;
My blood runs cold when his face I see,
     'Tis my own very self in the moonlight stands.

Thou double! Thou fetch, with the livid face!
     Why dust thou mimic my lovelorn mould,
That was racked and rent in this very place
     So many a night in the times of old?