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Heller schallend, mich umwallend, sind es Wellen sanfter Lufte? Sind es Wogen wonniger Dufte? Wie sie schwellen, mich umrauschen, soll ich athmen, soll ich lauschen? Soll ich schlurfen, untertauchen, suss in Duften mich verhauchen? May 30th. To-day. I had a spiritual experience a revelation; to-day, in a flash of insight, I understood an age whole centuries of time, whole nations of men.
Many of the most beautiful anecdotes of Mozart's life we owe to Nissen's gentle unjealousy, and Constanze could frankly sign herself "widow of Staatsrath Nissen, previously widow of Mozart." She includes an anonymous poem on Mozart's death, beginning: "Wo ist dein Grab? Wo duften die Cypressen?"
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