Classic Poem

Complain, gentle Werter, no more,
For soon must your Charlotte resign
This life, which with joy I'll restore
When my soul wings it course unto thine.

Then down thou poor spirit, and rest,
For soon will your wanderings end;
For deep is engrav'd in my breast,
The sorrows of Werter, my friend.

My husband, good Albert, adieu!
Forgive the past faults of my life;
May my babes find a father in you,
And you a more dutiful wife.

Give each for me, Albert, a kiss,
'Tis all that I now can bestow;
May their years be a series of bliss,
Unmix'd with the bitters of woe.

Come, Death! in thy horrors appear!
Grim tyrant thou canst not affright;
My soul is a stranger to fear,
And chides thee for shrinking to strike.

Methinks that I hear Werter chide,
Displeas'd he appears at my stay;
See! his arms he opes to me wide,
Impatient to bear me away.

I come, thou dear shadow of youth,
Who dy'd for an ill-fated love;
I've known thy affection and truth,
And hasten to meet thee above.

No longer to limits confin'd,
To heav'n's high summit we'll soar,
And leaving contagion behind,
The sorrows of Werter be o'er.