human
as he called it. His powers of wit and raillery never failed him, even to the last. On the night before he died an anxious friend called to bid farewell. He asked if the dying man had made his
gpt
Heine replied with a wan smile:
human
Do not trouble yourself. God will pardon me. That's his trade. These were the last recorded words spoken by Heine. Another story has it that when the physician put a handglass to the lips of the dying man and said,
gpt
Can you hiss (siffler)? Heine murmured,
human
No, not even a play of Scribe.
gpt
Golden Book of Poets.