From Faust - V Margaret At Her Spinning-Wheel

MY heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;

I find it

And nevermore.

When gone is he,

The grave I see;

The world's wide

Is turned to gall.

Alas, my

Is well-nigh crazed;

My feeble

Is sore amazed.

My heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;

I find it

And nevermore.

For him from the

Alone I spy;

For him

From home go I.

His lofty step,

His noble form,

His mouth's sweet smile,

His glances warm,

His voice so

With magic bliss,

His hand's soft pressure,

And, ah, his kiss!

My heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;

I find it

And nevermore.

My bosom

For his form so fair;

Ah, could I clasp

And hold him there!

My kisses

Should stop his breath,

And 'neath his kissesI'd sink in death!