The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1797. ----- THE BRIDE OF CORINTH.
Venus' radiant temple smiled on both. Mother! thou that promise since hast broken, Fetter'd by a strange, deceitful oath. Gods, though, hearken ne'er, Should a mother swear To deny her daughter's plighted troth. From my grave to wander I am forc'd, Still to seek The Good's long-sever'd link, Still to love the bridegroom I have lost, And the life-blood of his heart to drink; When his race is run, I must hasten on, And the young must 'neath my vengeance sink, "Beauteous youth! no longer mayst thou live; Here must shrivel up thy form so fair; Did not I to thee a token give, Taking in return this lock of hair? View it to thy sorrow! Grey thoult be to-morrow, Only to grow brown again when there. "Mother, to this final prayer give ear! Let a funeral pile be straightway dress'd; Open then my cell so sad and drear, That the flames may give the lovers rest! When ascends the fire From the glowing pyre, To the gods of old we'll hasten, blest."
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.