POEMS OF GOETHE
23
Is't hope? Do I wander?
Ye rocks and trees yonder,
Disclose ye the loved one,
Disclose my delight!
THE LANGUISHING.
O'er my sad fate I sorrow,
To each dewy morrow,
Veiled here from man's sight.
By the many mistaken,
Unknown and forsaken,
Here wing I my flight!
Compassionate spirit!
Let none ever hear it,—
Conceal my affliction,
Conceal thy delight!
THE HUNTER.
To-day I'm rewarded;
Rich booty's afforded
By Fortune so bright.
My servant, the pheasants,
And hares fit for presents,
Takes homeward at night.
Here see I enraptured
In nets the birds captured!—
Long life to the hunter!
Long live his delight!
THE MISANTHROPE.
At first awhile sits he,
With calm, unruffled brow;
His features then I see,
