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The Sorrows of Werter

By Johann Wolfgang Goethe



August 20.

IT is in vain that I stretch out my arms towards her, when I awake in the morning, after the ill-omened visions of night; 'tis in vain that I seek her, when an innocent dream has happily deceived me, and placed me by her side in the fields; I held her hand, I covered it with kisses: Alas! when half asleep, I still think I touch her, and then I wake entirely -- torrents of tears flow from my oppressed heart! and, bereaved of all comfort, I weep over the woes to come.