Front Page Titles (by Subject) SCENE III. - Goethe's Works, vol. 2 (Faust 1 & 2, Egmont, Natural Daughter, Sorrows of Young Werther)
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SCENE III. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 2 (Faust 1 & 2, Egmont, Natural Daughter, Sorrows of Young Werther) 
Goethe’s Works, illustrated by the best German artists, 5 vols. (Philadelphia: G. Barrie, 1885). Vol. 2.
Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.
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The Same. Governess.
The fleet already hears the favoring wind;
The sails are bellying; all is in commotion.
In tears the parting take one more embrace,
And from the vessels, from the steadfast land,
White handkerchiefs are waving last farewells.
And soon our vessel also weighs the anchor.
Come! let us go. No parting salutation
Consoles us, not a tear is shed for us.
Not unbewail’d, not without bitter pain
Of friends deserted, who would rescue you,
Who stretch forth yearning arms, ye pass from sight.
Oh, yet perchance from far will smile upon you
Desir’d in vain the vision ye now scorn.
A few short moments since I welcom’d thee
With rapture. Must a hasty “Fare-thee-well”
Now seal our everlasting separation?
Do I surmise the purport of your talk?
Thou seest me anxious for the eternal union.
(ToEugenie.) And how dost thou receive so great an offer?
With keenest gratitude that heart could render.
And art thou not inclin’d to grasp this hand?
She turn’d to me for aid importunately.
What next us lies is oft beyond our reach.
Ah! quite too soon relief will be too late.
And hast thou thought of all the threatening ill?
E’en to the last that threatens—death itself.
Dost thou decline the life that’s offer’d thee?
Delectable days of glad festivity.
One festival I hop’d for: hope is past.
Who much has lost again can quickly gain.
A lingering destiny instead of glory.
When glory quench’d its light slow days began.
The possible fate in store should bring content.
Who would not be content with love and faith?
My heart would contradict those flattering words,
And contravene you both impatiently.
Alas! I know how all too burdensome
Is succor undesir’d. It only rouses
Within our hearts the strongest opposition.
We should be grateful, but our thanks are scanty
Because we are not willing to receive.
So let me go. But ere our paths divide
I must fulfil the duty and the custom
Incumbent on the native of the port:
And to your voyage across the barren main
Devote refreshing stores of fruits and flowers,
My parting benediction and farewell.
Then will I stand and watch with stony eyes
While down the horizon fades the towering sail.
And with it go my happiness and fortune.