Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel
All my rest is gone,
my heart is lead;
I’ll never no never
repair the thread.
Now that he’s not mine
I hear grave’s call,
The whole wide world
is sour as gall.
My wretched head
grows quite insane,
My wretched mind
bursts from the pain.
All my rest is gone,
my heart is lead;
I’ll never no never
repair the thread.
Just at the window
For him do I gaze
Just from this house now
My heart strays.
His stately form
And bearing I prize,
His own way of smiling,
And the power of his eyes,
The stream of magic
From his lips,
His hands’ firm clasp,
And oh his kiss!
All my rest is gone,
my heart is lead;
I’ll never no never
repair the thread.
To him my breast
would now take flight
Ah, could I grasp him
And hold him tight,
And on his lips
My kisses strew,
And from his kissing
then swoon anew!
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