POEMS OF GOETHE
53
THE SHEPHERD'S LAMENT.
Up yonder on the mountain,
I dwelt for days together;
Looked down into the valley,
This pleasant summer weather.
My sheep go feeding onward,
My dog sits watching by;
I've wandered to the valley,
And yet I know not why.
The meadow, it is pretty,
With flowers so fair to see;
I gather them, but no one
Will take the flowers from me.
The good tree gives me shadow,
And shelter from the rain;
But yonder door is silent,
It will not ope again!
I see the rainbow bending,
Above her old abode,
But she is there no longer;
They've taken my love abroad.
They took her o'er the mountains.
They took her o'er the sea;
Move on, move on, my bonny sheep.
There is no rest for me!
