The Night Comes Stealing O'er Me, And

God Will Forgive Me. It's His Job." Heine Said This On His Deathbed (1856). Hilarious. He Must Have Thought That Up Years Before And Counted The Seconds To Use It.

Life Is All Too Wondrous Sweet, And The World Is So Beautifully Bewildered; It Is The Dream Of An Intoxicated Divinity.

I Wept In My Dreams. I Dreamed You Lay In The Grave; I Awoke, And The Tears Still Poured Down My Cheeks. I Wept In My Dreams, I Dreamed You Had Left Me; I Awoke And I Went On Weeping Long And Bitterly. I Wept In My Dreams, I Dreamed You Were Still Kind To Me; I Awoke, And Still The Flow Of My Tears Streams On.

Out Of My Great Sorrows, I Make Little Songs.

No Talent, But Yet A Character. [ger., Kein Talent, Doch Ein Charakter.]