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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - The Wedding Night
Work rating: Low

WITHIN the chamber, far away

From the glad feast, sits Love in dread
Lest guests disturb, in wanton play,

The silence of the bridal bed.
His torch`s pale flame serves to gild

The scene with mystic sacred glow;
The room with incense-clouds is fil`d,

That ye may perfect rapture know.

How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear

The chime that warns thy guests to fly!
How glow`st thou for those lips so dear,

That soon are mute, and nought deny!
With her into the holy place

Thou hast`nest then, to perfect all;
The fire the warder`s hands embrace,

Grows, like a night-light, dim and small.

How heaves her bosom, and how burns

Her face at every fervent kiss!
Her coldness now to trembling turns,

Thy daring now a duty is.
Love helps thee to undress her fast,

But thou art twice as fast as he;
And then he shuts both eye at last,

With sly and roguish modesty.
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