But overcautious prudery, And coyness cold and cruel, When most I need it, these, like clouds, Its longed-for light refuse me.

Bright star, 375 goal of my yearning eyes As thou above me beamest, When thou shalt hide thee from my sight I’ll know that death is near me.

The singer had got so far when it struck Dorothea that it was not fair to let Clara miss hearing such a sweet voice, so, shaking her from side to side, she woke her, saying:

“Forgive me, child, for waking thee, but I do so that thou mayest have the pleasure of hearing the best voice thou hast ever heard, perhaps, in all thy life.”