|
|
The Bridegroom.*
By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I slept, 'twas midnight, in my bosom woke,
As though 'twere day, my love-o'erflowing heart;
To me it seemed like night, when day first broke;
What is't to me, whate'er it may impart?
She was away; the world's unceasing strife
For her alone I suffer'd through the heat
Of sultry day; oh, what refreshing life
At cooling eve! my guerdon was complete.
The sun now set, and wand'ring hand in hand,
His last and blissful look we greeted then;
While spake our eyes, as they each other scann'd:
"From the far east, let's trust, he'll come again!"
At midnight! the bright stars, in vision blest,
Guide to the threshold where she slumbers calm:
Oh be it mine, there too at length to rest,
Yet howsoe'er this prove, life's full of charm!
Extra Info:
(Not in the English sense of the word, but the German, where it has the meaning of betrothed.)
|
|
Printable Page
Add Your Thoughts on this poem.
This page viewed 432 times.
|
|
