Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/336

302 What vocation leads thee, While the day is burning, Up this dusty path? Bring'st thou goods from out the town Round the country? Smilest thou, stranger, At my question?

From the town no goods I bring. Cool is now the evening; Show to me the fountain Whence thou drinkest, Woman young and kind!

Up the rocky pathway mount; Go thou first? Across the thicket Leads the pathway toward the cottage That I live in. To me the fountain Whence I drink.

Signs of man's arranging hand See I 'mid the trees! Not by thee these stones were joined. Nature, who so freely scattered!

Up, still up!