Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 110

Mine are not words meant only to deceive;

I have to thee my inmost heart reveal'd.

And doth no inward voice suggest to thee,

How I with yearning soul must pine to see

My father, mother, and my long-lost home?

Oh let thy vessels bear me thither, king?

That in the ancient halls, where sorrow still

In accents low doth fondly breathe my name,

Joy, as in welcome of a new-born child,

May round the columns twine the fairest wreath.

New life thou wouldst to me and mine impart.