O hope! lovely, benevolently active one!
  You, who does not eschew the house of those who mourn,
    And gladly serving, noble one! have your workings
      Between mortals and the powers of heaven, 

Where are you? I have lived only a little while; but already
  My evening breathes coldly. And quietly, like the shadows,
    I am already here; and, already songless,
      My shuddering heart slumbers in my breast.

In the green valley, yonder, where the fresh water-spring
  Rushes down daily from the mountain, and the lovely
    Crocus blooms for me on an autumnal day,
      There, in the quietness, you lovely one, I shall

Seek you, or when in the midnight hour
  Invisible life wanders in the grove,
    And above me the ever-joyful
      Flowers, the blossoming stars, shine.

Oh, you daughter of the aether! appear then
  From your father's gardens, and if you are not permitted
    To come as a spirit of earth, startle, oh,
      Only startle my heart with other means.