ere
carelessness, the sudden shock caused a violent bleeding at the lungs,
upon which the physician immediately declared his disease incurable.
Soon after this his betrothed came to Dresden.

As he grew weaker, he longed to change his residence to some warmer
climate. He thought of visiting his friend Herbert; but his physician
advised against such a change, perhaps considering him already too weak
to make such a journey. Thus the year passed away; and, in January
1801, he longed so eagerly to see his parents and be with them once
more, that at the end of the month he returned to Weissenfels. There
the ablest physicians from Leipzig and Jena were consulted, yet his
case grew rapidly worse, although he was perfectly free from pain, as
was the case through his whole illness. He still attended to the duties
of his office, and wrote considerably in his private papers. He also
composed some poems about this time, read the Bible diligently, and
much from the works of Zinzendorf and Lavater. The nearer he approached
his end, the stronger was his hope of recovery; for his cough abated,
and, with the exception of debility, he had none of the feelings of a
sick man. With this hope and longing for life, fresh powers and new
talents seemed to awaken within him; he thought with renewed love of
his projected labors, and undertook to write Henry of Ofterdingen anew.
Once, shortly before his death, he said; "I now begin, for the first
time, to see what true poetry is. Innumerable songs and poems far
different from those I have written awake within me." From the 19th of
March, the day on which Sophia died, he became very perceptibly weaker;
many of his friends visited him, and he was particularly delighted
when, on the 21st of March, his faithful and oldest friend Frederick
Schlegel came to see him from Jena. He conversed much with him,
particularly concerning their mutual labors. During these days his
spirits were good, his nights quiet, and he enjoyed tranquil sleep.
About six o'clock on the morning of the 26th, he asked his brother to
hand him some books, in order to look out certain passages, that he had
in mind; he then ordered his breakfast, and conversed with his usual
vivacity till eight. Towards nine he asked his brother to play for him
on the piano, and soon after fell asleep. Frederick Schlegel soon after
entered the chamber, and found him sleeping quietly. This sleep lasted
till twelve o'clock, at which hour he expired witho