Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/163

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POEMS OF GOETHE
137

Could I, when basking in her smile.
Dream of the treason in her breast?
She bade kind Cupid stay awhile,
And he was there to make us blest.

"To taste of love's sweet ecstasy
Throughout the night that endless seemed,
And for her mother's help to cry
Only when morning sunlight beamed!
A dozen of her kith and kin,
A very human flood, in-pressed,
Her cousins came, her aunts peered in,
And uncles, brothers, and the rest.

"Then what a tumult, fierce and loud!
Each seemed a beast of prey to be;
The maiden's honour all the crowd,
With fearful shout, demand of me.
Why should they, madmen-like, begin
To fall upon a guiltless youth?
For he who such a prize would win,
Far nimbler needs must be, in truth.

"The way to follow up with skill
His freaks, by Love betimes is known
He ne'er will leave, within a mill,
Sweet flowers for sixteen years alone.—
They stole my clothes away,—yes, all!
And tried my cloak beside to steal.
How strange that any house so small
So many rascals could conceal!

"Then I sprang up, and raved, and swore,
To force a passage through them there.
I saw the treacherous maid once more,
And she was still, alas, so fair!