The Storm
Das ist ein Brausen und Heulen
A howling storm is brewing,
The wind and rain are wild;
And what can my love be doing,
That pale and frightened child?
There at the window dreaming,
I see her, worn and white;
With eyes no longer beaming,
She stares into the night.
A howling storm is brewing,
The wind and rain are wild;
And what can my love be doing,
That pale and frightened child?
There at the window dreaming,
I see her, worn and white;
With eyes no longer beaming,
She stares into the night.
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