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THE HAPPY COUPLE. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

Edition used:

Goethe’s Works, illustrated by the best German artists, 5 vols. (Philadelphia: G. Barrie, 1885). Vol. 1.

Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.

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THE HAPPY COUPLE.

lf0841-01_figure_031
    • AFTER these vernal rains
    • That we so warmly sought,
    • Dear wife, see how our plains
    • With blessings sweet are fraught!
    • We cast our distant gaze
    • Far in the misty blue;
    • Here gentle love still strays,
    • Here dwells still rapture true.
    • Thou seest whither go
    • Yon pair of pigeons white,
    • Where swelling violets blow
    • Round sunny foliage bright.
    • ’Twas there we gather’d first
    • A nosegay as we rov’d;
    • There into flame first burst
    • The passion that we prov’d.
    • Yet when, with plighted troth,
    • The priest beheld us fare
    • Home from the altar both,
    • With many a youthful pair,—
    • Then other moons had birth,
    • And many a beauteous sun,
    • Then we had gain’d the earth
    • Whereon life’s race to run.
    • A hundred thousand fold
    • The mighty bond was seal’d;
    • In woods, on mountains cold,
    • In bushes, in the field,
    • Within the wall, in caves,
    • And on the craggy height,
    • And love, e’en o’er the waves,
    • Bore in his tube the light.
    • Contented we remain’d,
    • We deem’d ourselves a pair;
    • ’Twas otherwise ordain’d,
    • For, lo! a third was there;
    • A fourth, fifth, sixth appear’d,
    • And sat around our board;
    • And now the plants we’ve rear’d
    • High o’er our heads have soar’d!
    • How fair and pleasant looks,
    • On yonder beauteous spot,
    • Embrac’d by poplar-brooks,
    • The newly-finish’d cot!
    • Who is it there that sits
    • In that glad home above?
    • Is’t not our darling Fritz
    • With his own darling love?
    • Beside yon precipice,
    • Whence pent-up waters steal,
    • And, leaving the abyss,
    • Fall foaming through the wheel,—
    • Though people often tell
    • Of millers’ wives so fair,
    • Yet none can e’er excel
    • Our dearest daughter there!
    • Yet where the thick-set green
    • Stands round yon church and sod,
    • Where the old fir tree’s seen
    • Alone tow’rd heaven to nod,—
    • ’Tis there the ashes lie
    • Of our untimely dead;
    • From earth our gaze on high
    • By their bless’d memory’s led.
    • See how yon hill is bright
    • With billowy-waving arms!
    • The force returns, whose might
    • Has vanquish’d war’s alarms.
    • Who proudly hastens here
    • With wreath-encircl’d brow?
    • ’Tis like our child so dear!—
    • Thus Charles comes homeward now.
    • That dearest honor’d guest
    • Is welcom’d by the bride;
    • She makes the true one bless’d,
    • At the glad festal tide.
    • And ev’ry one makes haste
    • To join the dance with glee;
    • While thou with wreaths hast grac’d
    • The youngest children three.
    • To sound of flute and horn
    • The time appears renew’d,
    • When we, in love’s young morn,
    • In the glad dance upstood;
    • And perfect bliss I know
    • Ere the year’s course is run,
    • For to the font we go
    • With grandson and with son!