Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/64

42 Fled is all that gave thee gladness, Fled the cause of all thy sadness, Fled thy peace, thine industry— Ah, why suffer it to be?

Say, do beauty's graces youthful, Does this form so fair and bright, Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful, Chain thee with unceasing might? Would I tear me from her boldly, Courage take, and fly her coldly, Back to her I'm forthwith led By the path I seek to tread.

By a thread I ne'er can sever, For 'tis 'twined with magic skill, Doth the cruel maid for ever Hold me fast against my will. While those magic charms confine me, To her will I must resign me. Ah, the change in truth is great! Love! kind love! release me straight!

 TO BELINDA.

resistless power why dost thou press me Into scenes so bright? Had I not—good youth—so much to bless me In the lonely night?

In my little chamber close I found me, In the moon's cold beams; And there quivering light fell softly round me, While I lay in dreams. 