Page:The city of dreadful night - and other poems (IA cityofdreadfulni00thomrich).pdf/194

 Whence comes he? Whither goes he? Who dwells there above in the golden stars?"

The waves murmur their everlasting murmur, The wind sweeps, the clouds scud, The stars glitter indifferent and cold, And a fool awaits an answer.

I each day in the morning Pass by that house of thine, It gives me joy, thou darling, When you at the window shine.

Your dark brown eyes they ask me, As only sweet eyes can: Who art thou, and what ails thee, Thou sickly foreign man?

I am a German poet, Well known beyond the Rhine; When men the best names mention, Be sure they mention mine.

And what ails me, thou darling, Ails many beyond the Rhine;