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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Mischievous Joy
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AS a butterfly renew`d,

When in life I breath`d my last,

  To the spots my flight I wing,

Scenes of heav`nly rapture past,

  Over meadows, to the spring,
Round the hill, and through the wood.

Soon a tender pair I spy,

And I look down from my seat

  On the beauteous maiden`s head—

When embodied there I meet

  All I lost as soon as dead,
Happy as before am I.

Him she clasps with silent smile,

And his mouth the hour improves,

  Sent by kindly Deities;

First from breast to mouth it roves,

  Then from mouth to hands it flies,
And I round him sport the while.

And she sees me hov`ring near;

Trembling at her lovers rapture,

  Up she springs—I fly away,

"Dearest! let`s the insect capture

  Come! I long to make my prey
Yonder pretty little dear!"
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