The Works of J. W. von Goethe/Volume 9/The Breeze

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THE BREEZE.

The mists they are scattered,
The blue sky looks brightly,
And Eolus looses
The wearisome chain!
The winds, how they whistle!
The steersman is busy—
Hillio-ho, hillio-ho!
We dash through the billows—
They flash far behind us—
Land, land, boys, again!