My heart is mad, it foams and steams,
For I have dreamt the worst of dreams:
There came the gloomy son of night,
Carrying me gasping in his flight.

The house he brought me to was bright,
With gleaming torches and candle-light,
Resounding harps and merry din;
I reached a hall and I strode in.

It was a joyous wedding feast,
Sat round the board each merry guest,
And as I saw the bridal pair,
O woe! The bride, my love, was there!

This was my love, in all her bloom,
And a stranger was the bridegroom;
I crept up behind the bridal's chair,
And silently, I waited there.

The music swelled, I stood quite still,
The merry sounds made me feel ill.
The bride appeared so bright and blest,
When the bridegroom her hands did press.

I saw the bridegroom fill his glass
And drink, then with gesture pass
It to the bride. She smiled a thank,
O woe! It was my blood she drank!

The bride picked a rosy apple and
Put it in the bridegroom's hand;
He took his knife and cut a part,
O woe! What he cut was my heart!

They lovingly each other eyed,
The bridegroom boldly hugs the bride,
Kisses her red cheek lovingly.
O woe! Cold death is kissing me!

My tongue lay in my mouth like lead,
I could not speak, all words fell dead.
A noise was heard, 'twas music fair,
As rose to dance the bridal pair.

In morbid silence there I stood,
The dancers whirled in joyous mood;
The bridegroom whispered, she went red,
But did not scold for what was said.