Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 7.djvu/28

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And yearnings fill my soul, unwonted long, To yonder still, sad, spirit-world to go; Now, like Ælian harp, my faltering song Rises and falls in fitful cadence low; A shudder thrills me, as old memories throng, The strong heart melts, tears fast on tear-drops flow, What still is mine seems far, far off to be, And what has vanished lives anew for me.