Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Poems

My senses ofttimes are oppress'd,

Oft stagnant is my blood;
But when by Christel's sight I'm blest,
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COUNT.

I KNOW a flower of beauty rare,
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BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
Between hedgerow and thorn,
Between pasture and tree,
Where's my sweetheart
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ALL things give token of thee!
As soon as the bright sun is shining,
Thou too wilt follow, I trust.
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THERE'S no menagerie, I vow,

Excels my Lily's at this minute;
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HEART! my heart! what means this feeling?

What oppresseth thee so sore?
What strange life is o'er me stealing!
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NOUGHT more accursed in war I know

Than getting off scot-free;
Inured to danger, on we go
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THE queen in the lofty hall takes her place,

The tapers around her are flaming;
She speaks to the page: "With a nimble pace
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IN Paradise while moonbeams play'd,

Jehovah found, in slumber deep,
Adam fast sunk; He gently laid
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IN thousand forms mayst thou attempt surprise,

Yet, all-beloved-one, straight know I thee;
Thou mayst with magic veils thy face disguise,
...