The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Lovely Night
THE LOVELY NIGHT.
From the cot, where softly sleeping
Lies my bosom's love, I go,
And with noiseless footstep creeping,
Thread the dusty wood, when lo!
Bursts the moon through glade and greenwood,
Soft the herald zephyrs play,
And the waving birches sprinkle
Sweetest incense on my way.
How I revel in the coolness
Of this beauteous summer night
Stilly dreaming here the fulness
Of the panting soul's delight!
Words can paint not what my bliss is,
Yet, kind heaven, I'd yield to thee
Nights a thousand, fair as this is,
Would my love give one to me!