Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/184

158 Wherefore from these warm embraces drive me? Was I wakened up to meet thy frown? Did it not suffice That in virgin guise, To an early grave you forced me down?

"Fearful is the weird that forced me hither, From the dark-heaped chamber where I lay; Powerless are your drowsy anthems, neither Can your priests prevail, howe'er they pray. Salt nor lymph can cool, Where the pulse is full; Love must still burn on, though wrapped in clay.

"To this youth my early troth was plighted, Whilst yet Venus ruled within the land; Mother! and that vow ye falsely slighted, At your new and gloomy faith's command. But no god will hear, If a mother swear Pure from love to keep her daughter's hand.

"Nightly from my narrow chamber driven, Come I to fulfil my destined part. Him to seek to whom my troth was given, And to draw the life-blood from his heart. He hath served my will; More I yet must kill, For another prey I now depart.

"Fair young man! thy thread of life is broken. Human skill can bring no aid to thee.