|
Serenade [After Goethe]
Published in the Agnostic Journal London, England 12 May 1906 (page 291)
Ah! Thy soft pillow leaving, Dreaming, thy sleep give o'er; While song my strings is weaving, Sleep! What would'st thou more?
While song my strings is weaving, The starry hosts restore The heart's eternal heaving; Sleep! What would'st thou more?
My heart's eternal heaving, Raises me high,—to lore; To earth no longer cleaving; Sleep! What would'st thou more?
To earth no longer cleaving, Too high thy dreaming bore Me, in the night-wind grieving,— Sleep! What would'st thou more?
Of me, in the night-wind grieving, Dreaming, O give not o'er: Ah! Thy pillow not leaving, Sleep! What would'st thou more?
|