POEMS OF GOETHE
145
SHE.
Did then fate and rank keep us asunder,
And must Love take this road, and no other?
Yonder comes my dear and trusty brother!
What will he say to it all, I wonder?
Turn to good account thy day;
Wilt aught lay hold on? Go not far away.
THE PAGE AND THE MILLER'S DAUGHTER
PAGE.
Where goest thou? Where?
Miller's daughter so fair!
Thy name, pray?—
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
'Tis Lizzy.
PAGE.
Where goest thou? Where?
With the rake in thy hand?
MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Father's meadows and land
To visit, I'm busy.
PAGE.
Dost go there alone?
