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Spleen

When the low and heavy sky presses like a lid
On the groaning heart a prey to slow cares,
And when from a horizon holding the whole orb
There is cast at us a dark sky more sad than night;

When earth is changed to a damp dungeon,
Where Hope, like a bat,
Flees beating the walls with its timorous wings,
And knocking its...
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WANDERERS NACHTLIED
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

ber allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh',
In allen Wipfeln
Sprest Du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vglein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.