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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Book Of Suleika - Suleika 03
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ZEPHYR, for thy humid wing,

Oh, how much I envy thee!
Thou to him canst tidings bring

How our parting saddens me!

In my breast, a yearning still

As thy pinions wave, appears;
Flow`rs and eyes, and wood, and hill

At thy breath are steeped in tears.

Yet thy mild wing gives relief,

Soothes the aching eyelid`s pain;
Ah, I else had died for grief,

Him ne`er hoped to see again.

To my love, then, quick repair,

Whisper softly to his heart;
Yet, to give him pain, beware,

Nor my bosom`s pangs impart.

Tell him, but in accents coy,

That his love must be my life;
Both, with feelings fraught with joy,

In his presence will be rife.
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