as follows:—­
“Ne’er does the clever man, who seeks to advise us in sorrow,
Think how little his chilling words our hearts can deliver
From the pangs which an unseen destiny fastens upon us. 
You are happy and merry.  How then should a jest ever wound you? 
But the slightest touch gives torture to those who are suff’ring. 
Even dissimulation would nothing avail me at present. 
Let me at once disclose what later would deepen my sorrow,
And consign me perchance to agony mute and consuming. 
Let me depart forthwith!  No more in this house dare I linger;
I must hence and away, and look once more for my poor friends
Whom I left in distress, when seeking to better my fortunes. 
This is my firm resolve; and now I may properly tell you
That which had else been buried for many a year in my bosom. 
Yes, the father’s jest has wounded me deeply, I own it,
Not that I’m proud and touchy, as ill becometh a servant,
But because in truth in my heart a feeling has risen
For the youth, who to-day has fill’d the part of my Saviour. 
For when first in the road he left me, his image remain’d still
Firmly fix’d in my mind; and I thought of the fortunate maiden
Whom, as his betroth’d one, he cherish’d perchance in his bosom. 
And when I found him again at the well, the sight of him charm’d me
Just as if I had-seen an angel descending from heaven. 
And I follow’d him willingly, when as a servant he sought me,
But by my heart in truth I was flatter’d (I need must confess it),
As I hitherward came, that I might possibly win him,
If I became in the house an indispensable pillar. 
But, alas, I now see the dangers I well nigh fell into,
When I bethought me of living so near a silently-loved one. 
Now for the first time I feel how far removed a poor maiden
Is from a richer youth, however clever she may be. 
I have told you all this, that you my heart may mistake not,
Which an event that in thought I foreshadow has wounded already. 
For I must have expected, my secret wishes concealing,
That, ere much time had elapsed, I should see him bringing his bride home. 
And how then could I have endured my hidden affliction! 
Happily I am warn’d in time, and out of my bosom
Has my secret escaped, whilst curable still is the evil. 
But no more of the subject!  I now must tarry no longer
In this house, where I now am standing in pain and confusion,
All my foolish hopes and my feelings freely confessing. 
Not the night which, with sinking clouds, is spreading around us,
Not the rolling thunder (I hear it already) shall stop me,
Not the falling rain, which outside is descending in torrents,
Not the blustering storm.  All this I had to encounter
In that sorrowful flight, while the enemy follow’d behind Us. 
And once more I go on my way, as I long have been wont to,
Seized by the whirlpool of time, and parted from all that I care for. 
So farewell!  I’ll tarry no longer.  My fate is accomplish’d!”