362
POEMS OF GOETHE
V.
MARGAEET AT HER SPINNING-WHEEL.
My heart is sad,
My peace is o'er;
I find it never
And nevermore.
When gone is he,
The grave I see;
The world's wide all
Is turned to gall.
Alas, my head
Is well-nigh crazed;
My feeble mind
Is sore amazed.
My heart is sad,
My peace is o'er;
I find it never
And nevermore.
For him from the window
Alone I spy;
For him alone
From home go I.
His lofty step,
His noble form,
His mouth's sweet smile,
