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A poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe |
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To Charlotte |
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Title: To Charlotte Author: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [More Titles by Goethe] 'MIDST the noise of merriment and glee, 'Midst full many a sorrow, many a care, How, at evening's hour so fair, When thou, in some happy place Where more fair is Nature s face, Many a lightly-hidden trace Well 'tis that thy worth I rightly knew,-- That I, in the hour when first we met, While the first impression fill'd me yet, Rear'd in silence, calmly, knowing nought, On the world we suddenly are thrown; All things charm us--many please alone, To and fro our restless natures sway; By the changeful world-stream borne away. Well I know, we oft within us find Many a hope and many a smart. Charlotte, who can know our heart? In some creature's fellow-feelings blest, All the grief and joy in Nature's breast. Then thine eye is oft around thee cast, But in vain, for all seems closed for ever. Free from storm, but resting never: By what yesterday obey'd thee. Which so oft betray'd thee? Which, 'mid all thy pleasures and thy pains, Lived in selfish, unconcern'd repose? And the heart--makes haste to close. "She's worthy of all love!" I cried, Which in thy friend it richly hath supplied.
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