THE SWISS ALPS. by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
YESTERDAY brown was still thy head, as the locks
of my loved one,
Whose sweet image so dear silently beckons afar.
Silver-grey is the early snow to-day on thy summit,
Through the tempestuous night streaming fast over
Youth, alas, throughout life as closely to age is united
As, in some changeable dream, yesterday blends
October 7th, 1797.