HEINRICH HEINE - Repositories

In the realm of shades, on a throne of gold.
By the side of her royal spouse, behold
Fair Proserpine,
With gloomy mien.
While deep sighs upheave her bosom.
"The roses, the passionate song I miss
Of the nightingale; yea, and the sun's warm kiss.
Midst the Lemur's dread.
And the ghostly dead.
Now withers my life's young blossom.
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"I am fast in the yoke of marriage bound
To this cursed rat-hole underground.
Through my window at night.
Peers each ghostly sprite.
And the Styx murmurs lower and lower.
"To-day I have Charon invited to dinner.
He is bald, and his limbs they grow thinner and thinner.
And the judges, beside.
Of the dead, dismal-eyed,
In such company I shall grow sour."
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