Johann Wolfgang Vohe
I thk of thee, whehe sun his beas
Oer o flgs;
I thk of thee, whehe oonlight gleas
In silvry sprgs.
I see thee, when upon the distant ridge
The dt awakes;
At idnights hour, when on the fragile bridge
The wanderer quakes.
I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high,
With urur deep.
To tread the silent grove oft wander I,
When alls asleep.
I hee, though thou far away ayst be—
Thou, too, art near!
The suhe stars soon lighten .
Would thou wert here!