while I saw this meadow already before me, I fancied that
something was spoken over yonder in the bushes, upon which I felt
myself and all around me transformed. I cannot describe the word nor
the sound of it, my beloved. The song of the nightingale is harsh to
its sweetness, and the rolling of the thunder is but a weak whisper
compared to it. It was certainly the most mysterious and the most
compulsory communication which is possible between heaven and earth.
On me it exercised an irresistible power, as it fell into a mind that
had lost all self-control, into the tumult of my senses, and there was
in me no holy thought to oppose it. My eyes closed, and yet I could
see the path before me, which my feet, as though conducted by soft,
invisible hands, were forced to tread. I slept and yet I did not
sleep; it was an indescribable situation under the influence of which I
at length sank down on the soft recess in yonder arbour. Every thing
around me was speaking and singing, I felt within me the billow-like
commotion of the most tumultuous rapture, every drop of my blood
flashed and danced through my veins, and yet in the depth of my soul
there was the most extreme horror at my state, and the most ardent
prayer for an awakening from my slumber. I perceived at the same time
that nothing of the horror appeared in my face, for strange to say I
could look at myself, and I saw that my cheeks smiled with delight, as
if songs of heavenly joy were sung to me. The sensation of pleasure
penetrated deeper and deeper into my heart, that of horror receded more
and more, and I felt dreadfully alarmed lest this one small point
should be totally extinguished, and I should have nothing but pleasure.
In this state of trouble, and apparently the loss of all consciousness,
I vowed that I would belong to him, who should awaken and deliver me.
I now perceived through my closed eyelids a dark form stooping over me.
The form was large and noble, and yet I felt a deep repugnance towards
this person, while the thought that it might be he, who had uttered the
fatal word passed through my mind like a shadow; nevertheless I still
cried out, silently indeed, but yet loudly, to myself, 'If he wakens
thee and delivers thee, thou must belong to him for this ineffable
benefit, for thou hast vowed it.' He did not awaken me!'

"'I--I have awakened thee, my dearest love, and not by charms and
benedictions, no; but with a burning kiss on thy red lips!' c