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TO WERTHER. - 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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TO WERTHER.

    • ONCE more, then, much-wept shadow, thou dost dare
    • Boldly to face the day’s clear light,
    • To meet me on fresh blooming meadows fair,
    • And dost not tremble at my sight.
    • Those happy times appear return’d once more.
    • When on one field we quaff’d refreshing dew,
    • And, when the day’s unwelcome toils were o’er,
    • The farewell sunbeams bless’d our ravish’d view;
    • Fate bade thee go—to linger here was mine—
    • Going the first, the smaller loss was thine.
    • The life of man appears a glorious fate:
    • The day how lovely, and the night how great!
    • And we, ’mid paradise-like raptures plac’d,
    • The sun’s bright glory scarce have learn’d to taste,
    • When strange contending feelings dimly cover,
    • Now us, and now the forms that round us hover;
    • One’s feelings by no other are supplied;
    • ’Tis dark without, if all is bright inside;
    • An outward brightness veils my sadden’d mood,
    • When Fortune smiles,—how seldom understood!
    • Now think we that we know her, and with might
    • A woman’s beauteous form instils delight;
    • The youth, as glad as in his infancy,
    • The spring-time treads, as though the spring were he.
    • Ravish’d, amaz’d, he asks, how this is done?
    • He looks around, the world appears his own.
    • With careless speed he wanders on through space,
    • Nor walls, nor palaces can check his race;
    • As some gay flight of birds round tree-tops plays,
    • So ’tis with him who round his mistress strays;
    • He seeks from Æther, which he’d leave behind him,
    • The faithful look that fondly serves to bind him.
    • Yet first too early warn’d, and then too late,
    • He feels his flight restrain’d, is captur’d straight;
    • To meet again is sweet, to part is sad,
    • Again to meet again is still more glad,
    • And years in one short moment are enshrin’d;
    • But oh, the harsh farewell is hid behind!
    • Thou smilest, friend, with fitting thoughts inspir’d;
    • By a dread parting was thy fame acquir’d;
    • Thy mournful destiny we sorrow’d o’er;
    • For weal and woe thou left’st us evermore;
    • And then again the passions’ wavering force
    • Drew us along in labyrinthine course;
    • And we, consum’d by constant misery,
    • At length must part—and parting is to die!
    • How moving is it, when the minstrel sings,
    • To ’scape the death that separation brings!
    • Oh, grant, some god, to one who suffers so,
    • To tell, half-guilty, his sad tale of woe!