Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/52

30 Words can paint not what my bliss is, Yet, kind heaven, I'd yield to thee Nights a thousand, fair as this is, Would my love give one to me!

LOVE'S DREAM.

 LIVING REMEMBRANCE.

vexed, half pleased, thy love will feel, Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal; To thee they're much—I won't conceal; Such self-deceit may pardoned be; A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings, In truth are no more trifling things, But still they're not enough for me.

She who is dearest to my heart, Gave me, with well dissembled smart, Of her own life a living part, No charm in aught beside I trace; 