still, still war die nacht,
nur reget sich sacht -
von dunste
A night of december so dark and cold,
I walked a
And again the moon is on the wave, gliding gently
It was an eve in late summer, autumn was nigh
still
A bed of moss was granted,she laid down with a
O gothic moon thy shine encharmest me tonightBereavest me of
Meagre trees in the shrouds,as olde as the stones....Mourners of
Melancholy - still my desire for thy precious tragedian wine...Sweep
...and many a moon shall rise......and lead me into the
Bes till, O wand'rer!Dost thou not hear the sad song
When shadows grow longerand the sun sets for the forthcoming
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