To Belinda
[This song was also written for Lily.Goethe mentions,at the end of his Autobiography,that he overheard her singing it one evening after he had taken his last farewell of her.]
WHEREFORE drag me to yon glittering ed dy,
With resistless might[171]？
Was I,then,not truly blest already
In the silent night?
In my secret chamber refuge taking,
’Neath the moon’s soft ray,
And her awful light around me breaking,
Musing there I lay.
And I dream’d of hours with joy o’erflowing,
Golden,truly blest,
While thine image so beloved was glowing
Deep within my breast.
Now to the card-table hast thou bound me,
’Midst the torches[172]glare？
Whilst unhappy faces are around me,
Dost thou hold me there?
Spring-flow’rs are to me more rapture-giving,
Now conceal’d from view;
Where thou,angel,art,is Nature living,
Love and kindness too.
1775.