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To Lida by Goethe

THE only one whom, Lida, thou canst love,
Thou claim’st, and rightly claim’st, for only thee;

He too is wholly thine; since doomed to rove
Far from thee, in life’s turmoils nought I see

Save a thin veil, through which thy form I view,

As though in clouds; with kindly smile and true,
It cheers me, like the stars eterne that gleam

Across the northern-lights’ far-flick’ring beam.
1789.*

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