Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 929

MARGARET (alone at her spinning wheel)

My peace is gone,

My heart is sore,

I find it never,

And nevermore!

Where him I have not,

Is the grave; and all

The world to me

Is turned to gall.

My wilder'd brain

Is overwrought;

My feeble senses

Are distraught.

My peace is gone,

My heart is sore,

I find it never,

And nevermore!

For him from the window

I gaze, at home;

For him and him only

Abroad I roam.

His lofty step,

His bearing high,

The smile of his lip,

The power of his eye,

His witching words,

Their tones of bliss,

His hand's fond pressure,

And ah—his kiss!

My peace is gone,

My heart is sore,

I find it never,

And nevermore.