Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/396

362 V.

MARGAEET AT HER SPINNING-WHEEL.

heart is sad, My peace is o'er; I find it never And nevermore.

When gone is he, The grave I see; The world's wide all Is turned to gall.

Alas, my head Is well-nigh crazed; My feeble mind Is sore amazed.

My heart is sad, My peace is o'er; I find it never And nevermore.

For him from the window Alone I spy; For him alone From home go I.

His lofty step, His noble form, His mouth's sweet smile, His glances warm,