WHEN, Germany, I think of thee At night, all slumber flies from me; I cannot close mine eyes for yearning, And down my cheeks run tears all burning. How swiftly speeds each rolling year! Since I have seen my mother dear Twelve years have pass'd away; the longer I wait, my yearning grows the stronger. My yearning's growing evermore; That woman has bewitch'd me sore! Dear, dear old woman! with what fervour I think of her! may God preserve her! The dear old thing in me delights, And in the letters that she writes I see how much her hand is shaking, -- Her mother's heart, how nearly breaking! My mother's ever in my mind; Twelve long long years are left behind, Twelve years have follow'd on each other Since to my heart I clasp'd my mother. For ages Germany will stand; Sound to the core is that dear land! Its oaks and lindens I shall ever Find just the same, they alter never. For Germany I less should care If my dear mother were not there; My fatherland will never perish But @3she@1 may die, whom most I cherish. Since I my native land saw last, Into the tomb have many pass'd Whom I so loved -- When of them thinking How sadly bleeds my spirit sinking! I needs must count them, -- as I count My sorrows higher, higher mount; I feel as though each corpse were lying Upon my breast -- Thank God, they're flying Thank God! for through the window-pane France's clear daylight breaks again; My fair wife enters, sweetly smiling, And all my German cares beguiling! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY GARDEN by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 101 by OMAR KHAYYAM THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 2. PRELUDE: LOVE AT LARGE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE THE PORTRAIT by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI A SONG OF A YOUNG LADY TO HER ANCIENT LOVER by JOHN WILMOT PIETRO ARETINO by LUCIUS MORRIS BEEBE |