The Poetry Corner

The Loving One Once More.

By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Why do I o'er my paper once more bend? Ask not too closely, dearest one, I pray For, to speak truth, I've nothing now to say; Yet to thy hands at length 'twill come, dear friend. Since I can come not with it, what I send My undivided heart shall now convey, With all its joys, hopes, pleasures, pains, to-day: All this hath no beginning, hath no end. Henceforward I may ne'er to thee confide How, far as thought, wish, fancy, will, can reach, My faithful heart with thine is surely blended. Thus stood I once enraptured by thy side, Gazed on thee, and said nought. What need of speech? My very being in itself was ended.