My brightest hopes have come to nothing, the joys of
Friendship and love soon turn to sorrows, and even my
Pleasure in beauty itself is in danger of dying away! "Meine
Ruh' ist hin, mein Herz ist schwer;" thus sang Gretchen at
Her spinning wheel. So might I now sing every day, for every
Night I got to bed hoping that I shall not wake again, and
Each morning only brings back all the sorrows and grief of
The day before. "Meine Ruh' ist hin, mein Herz ist schwer;"
Thus sang Gretchen at her spinning wheel. And so I spend
My days, joyless and friendless