Heinrich Heine (1799–1856)

I DREAMED a princess came to me

With pale and tearful face.

We sat beneath the linden tree

In lovers’ fond embrace.

“I do not want thy father’s throne,

Nor yet his sceptre of gold,

His diamond crown I would not own—

Thee, fairest, I want to hold.”

“That may not be,” she spake to me,

“I lie in my grave below—

Only at night I come to thee,

Because I love thee so.”