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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - To The Moon
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BUSH and vale thou fill`st again

With thy misty ray,
And my spirit`s heavy chain

Castest far away.

Thou dost o`er my fields extend

Thy sweet soothing eye,
Watching like a gentle friend,

O`er my destiny.

Vanish`d days of bliss and woe

Haunt me with their tone,
Joy and grief in turns I know,

As I stray alone.

Stream beloved, flow on! flow on!

Ne`er can I be gay!
Thus have sport and kisses gone,

Truth thus pass`d away.

Once I seem`d the lord to be

Of that prize so fair!
Now, to our deep sorrow, we

Can forget it ne`er.

Murmur, stream, the vale along,

Never cease thy sighs;
Murmur, whisper to my song

Answering melodies!

When thou in the winter`s night

Overflow`st in wrath,
Or in spring-time sparklest bright,

As the buds shoot forth.

He who from the world retires,

Void of hate, is blest;
Who a friend`s true love inspires,

Leaning on his breast!

That which heedless man ne`er knew,

Or ne`er thought aright,
Roams the bosom`s labyrinth through,

Boldly into night.
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