POEMS OF GOETHE
59
It sank; and again the ruins
Stood desolate and lone!
TO MIGNON.
Over vale and torrent far
Rolls along the sun's bright car.
Ah! he wakens in his course
Mine, as thy deep-seated smart
In the heart,
Ev'ry morning with new force.
Scarce avails night aught to me;
E'en the visions that I see
Come but in a mournful guise;
And I feel this silent smart
In my heart
With creative power arise.
During many a beauteous year
I have seen ships 'neath me steer,
As they seek the shelt'ring bay;
But, alas, each lasting smart
In my heart
Floats not with the stream away.
I must wear a gala dress,
Long stored up within my press,
For to-day to feasts is given;
None know with what bitter smart
Is my heart
Fearfully and madly riven.
Secretly I weep each tear,
