Past full many a rock must steers
But should he the haven see,

When the storm has ceased to break,
And be happy, reft of thee,—­

May the Gods fierce vengeance take!

Boldly dared is well nigh won!

Half my task is solved aright;
Ev’ry star’s to me a sun,

Only cowards deem it night. 
Stood I idly by thy side,

Sorrow still would sadden me;
But when seas our paths divide,

Gladly toil I,—­toil for thee!

Now the valley I perceive,

Where together we will go,
And the streamlet watch each eve,

Gliding peacefully below
Oh, the poplars on yon spot!

Oh, the beech trees in yon grove! 
And behind we’ll build a cot,

Where to taste the joys of love!

1771.
-----
First loss.

Ah! who’ll e’er those days restore,

Those bright days of early love
Who’ll one hour again concede,

Of that time so fondly cherish’d! 
Silently my wounds I feed,
And with wailing evermore

Sorrow o’er each joy now perish’d. 
Ah! who’ll e’er the days restore

Of that time so fondly cherish’d.

1789.*
-----
After-sensations.

When the vine again is blowing,

Then the wine moves in the cask;
When the rose again is glowing,

      Wherefore should I feel oppress’d?

Down my cheeks run tears all-burning,

If I do, or leave my task;
I but feel a speechless yearning,

      That pervades my inmost breast.

But at length I see the reason,

When the question I would ask: 
’Twas in such a beauteous season,

      Doris glowed to make me blest!

1797.
-----
Proximity of the beloved one.

I think of thee, whene’er the sun his beams

O’er ocean flings;
I think of thee, whene’er the moonlight gleams

  In silv’ry springs.

I see thee, when upon the distant ridge

The dust awakes;
At midnight’s hour, when on the fragile bridge

  The wanderer quakes.

I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high,

With murmur deep. 
To tread the silent grove oft wander I,

  When all’s asleep.

I’m near thee, though thou far away mayst be—­

Thou, too, art near! 
The sun then sets, the stars soon lighten me.

  Would thou wert here!

1795.
-----
Presence.

All things give token of thee! 
As soon as the bright sun is shining,
Thou too wilt follow, I trust.

When in the garden thou walk’st,
Thou then art the rose of all roses,
Lily of lilies as well.

When thou dost move in the dance,
Then each constellation moves also;
With thee and round thee they move.