fitful

Aktualisiert: 8. Mai 2025

Senta, my child, I fancied in my arms I held, When of a sudden changeth the wind, And blew a gale, as if in league with Satan’s power; But now the worst is past, and its fury The storm hath spent in fitful blasts.

Richard Wagner - Der Fliegende Holländer: The Flying Dutchman