Explore "Zephyr" by Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
ZEPHYR, for thy humid wing,
Oh, how much I envy thee! Thou to him canst tidings bring
How our parting saddens me!
In my breast, a yearning still
As thy pinions wave, appears; Flow'rs and eyes, and wood, and hill
At thy breath are steeped in tears.
Yet thy mild wing gives relief,
Soothes the aching eyelid's pain; Ah, I else had died for grief,
Him ne'er hoped to see again.
To my love, then, quick repair,
Whisper softly to his heart; Yet, to give him pain, beware,
Nor my bosom's pangs impart.
Tell him, but in accents coy,
That his love must be my life; Both, with feelings fraught with joy,
In his presence will be rife.