Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/44

22 Yet the greatest bliss in life, And the richest prize we find, Is a good, contented mind.

He by whom man's foolish will Is each day reviewed and blamed, Who when others fools are still, Is himself a fool proclaimed,— Ne'er at mill was beast's back pressed With a heavier load than he. What I feel within my breast That in truth's the thing for me!

 DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT.

seen him before me! What rapture steals o'er me Oh, heavenly sight! He's coming to meet me; Perplexed, I retreat me, With shame take to flight. My mind seems to wander! Ye rocks and trees yonder, Conceal ye my rapture, Conceal my delight!

'Tis here I must find her, 'Twas here she enshrined her, Here vanished from sight. She came, as to meet me, Then fearing to greet me, With shame took to flight. 