The Sorrows of Young Werther eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 154 pages of information about The Sorrows of Young Werther.

The Sorrows of Young Werther eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 154 pages of information about The Sorrows of Young Werther.

October 10.

Only to gaze upon her dark eyes is to me a source of happiness!  And what grieves me, is, that Albert does not seem so happy as he —­ hoped to be —­ as I should have been —­ if —­ I am no friend to these pauses, but here I cannot express it otherwise; and probably I am explicit enough.

October 12.

Ossian has superseded Homer in my heart.  To what a world does the illustrious bard carry me!  To wander over pathless wilds, surrounded by impetuous whirlwinds, where, by the feeble light of the moon, we see the spirits of our ancestors; to hear from the mountain-tops, mid the roar of torrents, their plaintive sounds issuing from deep caverns, and the sorrowful lamentations of a maiden who sighs and expires on the mossy tomb of the warrior by whom she was adored.  I meet this bard with silver hair; he wanders in the valley; he seeks the footsteps of his fathers, and, alas! he finds only their tombs.  Then, contemplating the pale moon, as she sinks beneath the waves of the rolling sea, the memory of bygone days strikes the mind of the hero, days when approaching danger invigorated the brave, and the moon shone upon his bark laden with spoils, and returning in triumph.  When I read in his countenance deep sorrow, when I see his dying glory sink exhausted into the grave, as he inhales new and heart-thrilling delight from his approaching union with his beloved, and he casts a look on the cold earth and the tall grass which is so soon to cover him, and then exclaims, “The traveller will come, —­ he will come who has seen my beauty, and he will ask, ’Where is the bard, where is the illustrious son of Fingal?’ He will walk over my tomb, and will seek me in vain!” Then, O my friend, I could instantly, like a true and noble knight, draw my sword, and deliver my prince from the long and painful languor of a living death, and dismiss my own soul to follow the demigod whom my hand had set free!

October 19.

Alas! the void the fearful void, which I feel in my bosom!  Sometimes I think, if I could only once but once, press her to my heart, this dreadful void would be filled.

October 26.

Yes, I feel certain, Wilhelm, and every day I become more certain, that the existence of any being whatever is of very little consequence.  A friend of Charlotte’s called to see her just now.  I withdrew into a neighbouring apartment, and took up a book; but, finding I could not read, I sat down to write.  I heard them converse in an undertone:  they spoke upon indifferent topics, and retailed the news of the town.  One was going to be married; another was ill, very ill, she had a dry cough, her face was growing thinner daily, and she had occasional fits.  “N—­ is very unwell too,” said Charlotte.  “His limbs begin to swell already,” answered the other; and my lively imagination carried me at once to the beds of the infirm.  There I see them struggling against death, with all the

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The Sorrows of Young Werther from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.