The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres

Chapter 8

Chapter 8136 wordsPublic domain

WHO never eat with tears his bread,

Who never through night's heavy hours Sat weeping on his lonely bed,--

He knows you not, ye heavenly powers!

Through you the paths of life we gain,

Ye let poor mortals go astray, And then abandon them to pain,--

E'en here the penalty we pay, ----- WHO gives himself to solitude,

Soon lonely will remain; Each lives, each loves in joyous mood,

And leaves him to his pain.

Yes! leave me to my grief! Were solitude's relief

E'er granted me,

Alone I should not be.

A lover steals, on footstep light,

To learn if his love's alone; Thus o'er me steals, by day and night,

Anguish before unknown, Thus o'er me steals deep grief. Ah, when I find relief

Within the tomb so lonely,

Will rest be met with only! -----