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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Preservation
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My maiden she proved false to me;

To hate all joys I soon began,

Then to a flowing stream I ran,—
The stream ran past me hastily.

There stood I fix`d, in mute despair;

My head swam round as in a dream;

I well-nigh fell into the stream,
And earth seem`d with me whirling there.

Sudden I heard a voice that cried—

I had just turn`d my face from thence—

It was a voice to charm each sense:
"Beware, for deep is yonder tide!"

A thrill my blood pervaded now,

I look`d and saw a beauteous maid

I asked her name—twas Kate, she said—
"Oh lovely Kate! how kind art thou!

"From death I have been sav`d by thee,

`Tis through thee only that I live;

Little `twere life alone to give,
My joy in life then deign to be!"

And then I told my sorrows o`er,

Her eyes to earth she sweetly threw;

I kiss`d her, and she kiss`d me too,
And—then I talked of death no more.
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