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Poem	[Written at the time of Goethe's connection with Lily.] HEART! my heart! what means this feeling? What oppresseth thee so sore? What strange life is o'er me stealing! I acknowledge thee no more. Fled is all that gave thee gladness, Fled the cause of all thy sadness, Fled thy peace, thine industry-- Ah, why suffer it to be? Say, do beauty's graces youthful, Does this form so fair and bright, Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful, Chain thee with unceasing might? Would I tear me from her boldly, Courage take, and fly her coldly, Back to her. I'm forthwith led By the path I seek to tread. By a thread I ne'er can sever, For 'tis 'twined with magic skill, Doth the cruel maid for ever Hold me fast against my will. While those magic chains confine me, To her will I must resign me. Ah, the change in truth is great! Love! kind love! release me straight! 1775.
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