By Heinrich Heine My darling, we sat together, We two, in our frail boat; The night was calm o'er the wide sea Whereon we were afloat. The Specter-Island, the lovely, Lay dim in the moon's mild glance; There sounded sweetest music, There waved the shadowy dance. It sounded sweeter and sweeter, It waved there to and fro; But we slid past forlornly Upon the great sea-flow. This guy was friends with Marx (Karl, not Groucho) EDIT: oh fuck, the topic title should obviously say My Darling, not My Carling
