The Sorrows of Young Werther - October Interlude I
The third of several poems to fill the long gap between Werther's letters
THE BLISS OF SORROW
Never dry, never dry,
Tears that eternal love sheddeth!
How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear,
When only half-dried on the eye is the tear!
Never dry, never dry,
Tears that unhappy love sheddeth!
-Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, 1775
From The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Collected and translated by Edgar A. Bowring, 1853.
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