Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/172

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146
POEMS OF GOETHE

MILLER'S DAUGHTER

By this rake, sir, 'tis shown
That we're making the hay;
And the pears ripen fast
In the garden at last,
So I'll pick them to-day.

PAGE.

Is't a silent thicket I yonder view?

MILLER'S DAUGHTER

Oh, yes! there are two;
There's one on each side.

PAGE.

I'll follow thee soon;
When the sun burns at noon,
We'll go there, ourselves from his rays to hide,
And then in some glade all-verdant and deep—

MILLER'S DAUGHTER

Why, people would say—

PAGE.

Within mine arms thou gently wilt sleep.

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.

Your pardon, I pray!
Whoever is kissed by the miller-maid,
Upon the spot must needs be betrayed.
'Twould give me distress
To cover with white
Your pretty dark dress.