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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - The Epochs
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ON Petrarch`s heart, all other days before,
In flaming letters written, was impress d
GOOD FRIDAY. And on mine, be it confess`d,
Is this year`s ADVENT, as it passeth o`er.
I do not now begin,—I still adore
Her whom I early cherish`d in my breast;,
Then once again with prudence dispossess`d,
And to whose heart I`m driven back once more.
The love of Petrarch, that all-glorious love,
Was unrequited, and, alas, full sad;
One long Good Friday `twas, one heartache drear
But may my mistress` Advent ever prove,
With its palm-jubilee, so sweet and glad,
One endless Mayday, through the livelong year!
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