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Poems of Goethe

WHO gives himself to solitude,

Soon lonely will remain;
Each lives, each loves in joyous mood,

And leaves him to his pain.

Yes! leave me to my grief!
Were solitude's relief

E'er granted me,

Alone I should not be.

A lover steals, on footstep light,

To learn if his love's alone;
Thus o'er me steals, by day and night,

Anguish before unknown,
Thus o'er me steals deep grief.
Ah, when I find relief

Within the tomb so lonely,

Will rest be met with only!