Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/58

36 Now the valley I perceive, Where together we will go, And the streamlet watch each eve, Gliding peacefully below. Oh, the poplars on yon spot! Oh, the beech-trees in yon grove! And behind we'll build a cot. Where to taste the joys of love!

 FIRST LOSS.

 APPARENT DEATH.

 AFTER-SENSATIONS. When the vine again is blowing, Then the wine moves in the cask; When the rose again is glowing, Wherefore should I feel oppressed? 