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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow - Wanderer`s Night Songs. (From Goethe)
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I.
Thou that from the heavens art,
Every pain and sorrow stillest, 
And the doubly wretched heart 
Doubly with refreshment fillest, 
I am weary with contending! 
Why this rapture and unrest? 
Peace descending 
Come ah, come into my breast!

II.
O`er all the hill-tops 
Is quiet now, 
In all the tree-tops 
Hearest thou 
Hardly a breath; 
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait; soon like these
Thou too shalt rest.
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