The Maid of the Mill's Repentance by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

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YOUTH.

AWAY, thou swarthy witch! Go forth

From out my house, I tell thee! Or else I needs must, in my wrath,

Expel thee! What's this thou singest so falsely, forsooth, Of love and a maiden's silent truth?

Who'll trust to such a story!

GIPSY.

I sing of a maid's repentant fears,

And long and bitter yearning; Her levity's changed to truth and tears

All-burning. She dreads no more the threats of her mother, She dreads far less the blows of her brother,

Than the dearly loved-one's hatred.

YOUTH.

Of selfishness sing and treacherous lies,

Of murder and thievish plunder! Such actions false will cause no surprise,

Or wonder. When they share their booty, both clothes and purse, -- As bad as you gipsies, and even worse,

Such tales find ready credence.

GIPSY.

"Alas, alas! oh what have I done?

Can listening aught avail me? I hear him toward my room hasten on,

To hail me. My heart beat high, to myself I said: 'O would that thou hadst never betray'd

That night of love to thy mother!"

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