The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/Early Spring
EARLY SPRING.
Come ye so early,
Days of delight?
Making the hillside
Blithesome and bright?
Merrily, merrily,
Little brooks rush,
Down by the meadow,
Under the bush.
Welkin and hilltop,
Azure and cool;
Fishes are sporting
In streamlet and pool.
Birds of gay feather
Flit through the grove,
Singing together
Ditties of love.
Busily coming
From moss-covered bowers,
Brown bees are humming,
Questing for flowers.
Lightsome emotion,
Life everywhere;
Faint wafts of fragrance
Scenting the air.
Now comes there sounding
A sough of the breeze,
Shakes through the thicket,
Sinks in the trees.
Sinks, but returning,
It ruffles my hair;
Aid me this rapture,
Muses, to bear!
Know ye the passion
That stirs in me here?
Yester e'en at gloaming
Was I with my dear!