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Goethe's Faust

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Ihr naht euch wieder, schwankende Gestalten, Die fruh sich einst dem truben Blick gezeigt. Versuch ich wohl, euch diesmal festzuhalten? Fuhl ich mein Herz noch jenem Wahn geneigt? Ihr drangt euch zu! nun gut, so mogt ihr walten, Wie ihr aus Dunst und Nebel um mich steigt; Mein Busen fuhlt sich jugendlich erschuttert Vom Zauberhauch, der euren Zug umwittert.

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