word, like a
sentinel, and Heimbert, trembling with joy, glided within the gloomy and
aromatic shrubberies.
CHAPTER III
He was not long in seeking the bright star, which he indeed felt was
destined henceforth to guide the course of his whole life. The delicate
form approached him not far from the entrance; weeping softly, it seemed
to him, in the light of the full moon which was just rising, and yet
smiling with such infinite grace, that her tears were rather like a
pearly ornament than a veil of sorrow. In deep and infinite joy and
sorrow the two lovers wandered silently together through the flowery
groves; now and then a branch waving in the night-air would touch the
guitar on the lady's arm, and it would breathe forth a slight murmur
which blended with the song of the nightingale, or the delicate fingers
of the girl would tremble over the strings and awaken a few scattered
chords, while the shooting stars seemed as if following the tones of the
instrument as they died away. Oh, truly happy was this night both to
the youth and the maiden, for no rash wish or impure desire passed even
fleetingly across their minds. They walked on side by side, happy that
Providence had allowed them this delight, and so little desiring any
other blessing that even the transitoriness of that they were now
enjoying floated away into the background of their thoughts.
In the middle of the beautiful garden there was a large open lawn,
ornamented with statues and surrounding a beautiful and splashing
fountain. The two lovers sat down on its brink, now gazing at the waters
sparkling in the moonlight, and now delighting in the contemplation
of each other's beauty. The maiden touched her guitar, and Heimbert,
impelled by a feeling scarcely intelligible to himself, sang the
following words to it:
"There is a sweet life linked with mine,
But I cannot tell its name;
Oh, would it but to me consign
The secret of that life divine,
That so my lips in whispers sweet
And gentle songs might e'en repeat
All that my heart would fain proclaim!"
He suddenly paused, and blushed deeply, fearing he had been too bold.
The lady blushed also, touched her guitar-strings with a half-abstracted
air, and at last sang as if dreamily:
"By the spring where moonlight's gleams
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