The Chosen Rock

By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Here, in the hush and stillness of mid-noon,
The lover lay, and thought upon his love;
With blithesome voice he spoke to me: Be thou
My witness, stone! -- Yet, therefore, vaunt thee not,
For thou hast many partners of my joy --
To every rock that crowns this grassy dell,
And looks on me and my felicity;
To every forest-stem that I embrace
In my entrancement as I roam along,
Stand thou for a memorial of my bliss!
All mingle with my rapture, and to all
I lift a consecrating cry of joy.
Yet do I lend a voice to thee alone,
As culls the Muse some favourite from the crowd,
And, with a kiss, inspires for evermore.

M.