Tristan and Isolda

and endearing?

Passion swelling,

all things telling,

gently bounding,

from him sounding,

in me pushes,

upward rushes

trumpet tone

that round me gushes.

Brighter growing,

o'er me flowing,

are these breezes

airy pillows?

Are they balmy

beauteous billows?

How they rise

and gleam and glisten!

Shall I breathe them?

Shall I listen?

Shall I sip them,

dive within them,

to my panting

breathing win them?

In the breezes around,

in the harmony sound

in the world's driving

whirlwind be drown'd-

and, sinking,

be drinking-

in a kiss,

highest bliss!

(ISOLDAsinks, as if transfigured, inBRANGAENA 'S arms

uponTRISTAN'S body. Profound emotion and grief of the

bystanders. MARKinvokes a blessing on the dead. Curtain.)