Ev'ry youth for love's sweet portion sighs,
Ev'ry maiden sighs to win man's love;
Why, alas! should bitter pain arise
From the noblest passion that we prove?
Thou, kind soul, bewailest, lov'st him well,
From disgrace his memory's saved by thee;
Lo, his spirit signs from out its cell:
BE A MAN, NOR SEEK TO FOLLOW ME.
From 'the Sorrows Of Young Werther.'
Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe
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Poem topics: memory, pain, passion, soul, sweet, spirit, bitter, prove, follow, portion, youth, love, I love you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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