Margaret

How, dearest? canst thou kiss no more! So short a time away from me, and yet, To kiss thou couldst so soon forget! Why on thy neck so anxious do I feel-- When formerly a perfect heaven of bliss From thy dear looks and words would o'er me steal? As thou wouldst stifle me thou then didst kiss!-- Kiss me! Or I'll kiss thee! (She embraces him.)

Woe! woe! Thy lips are cold,-- Are dumb! Thy love where hast thou left? Who bath me of thy love bereft? (She turns away from him.)