The poem
[Written at the time of Goethe's connection with Lily.]
HEART! my heart! what means this feeling?
What oppresseth thee so sore? What strange life is o'er me stealing!
I acknowledge thee no more. Fled is all that gave thee gladness, Fled the cause of all thy sadness,
Fled thy peace, thine industry--
Ah, why suffer it to be?
Say, do beauty's graces youthful,
Does this form so fair and bright, Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful,
Chain thee with unceasing might? Would I tear me from her boldly, Courage take, and fly her coldly,
Back to her. I'm forthwith led
By the path I seek to tread.
By a thread I ne'er can sever,
For 'tis 'twined with magic skill, Doth the cruel maid for ever
Hold me fast against my will. While those magic chains confine me, To her will I must resign me.
Ah, the change in truth is great!
Love! kind love! release me straight!
1775.