Goethe

For Ever

The happiness that man, whilst prison'd here, Is wont with heavenly rapture to compare,-- The harmony of Truth, from wavering clear,-- Of Friendship that is free from doubting care,-- The light which in stray thoughts alone can cheer The wise,--the bard alone in visions fair,-- In my best hours I found in her all this, And made mine own, to mine exceeding bliss.

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