Delphi Collected Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe \(Illustrated\) pdfdrive com

DECEMBER 12.

Dear  Wilhelm,  I  am  reduced  to  the  condition  of  those  unfortunate  wretches

who believe they are pursued by an evil spirit. Sometimes I am oppressed, not by

apprehension  or  fear,  but  by  an  inexpressible  internal  sensation,  which  weighs

upon  my  heart,  and  impedes  my  breath!  Then  I  wander  forth  at  night,  even  in

this  tempestuous  season,  and  feel  pleasure  in  surveying  the  dreadful  scenes

around me.

Yesterday evening I went forth. A rapid thaw had suddenly set in: I had been

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informed that the river had risen, that the brooks had all overflowed their banks,

and that the whole vale of Walheim was under water! Upon the stroke of twelve

I  hastened  forth.  I  beheld  a  fearful  sight.  The  foaming  torrents  rolled  from  the

mountains  in  the  moonlight,    —    fields  and  meadows,  trees  and  hedges,  were

confounded together; and the entire valley was converted into a deep lake, which

was  agitated  by  the  roaring  wind!  And  when  the  moon  shone  forth,  and  tinged

the  black  clouds  with  silver,  and  the  impetuous  torrent  at  my  feet  foamed  and

resounded  with  awful  and  grand  impetuosity,  I  was  overcome  by  a  mingled

sensation  of  apprehension  and  delight.  With  extended  arms  I  looked  down  into

the yawning abyss, and cried, “Plunge!’” For a moment my senses forsook me,

in the intense delight of ending my sorrows and my sufferings by a plunge into

that gulf! And then I felt as if I were rooted to the earth, and incapable of seeking

an  end  to  my  woes!  But  my  hour  is  not  yet  come:  I  feel  it  is  not.  O  Wilhelm,

how willingly could I abandon my existence to ride the whirlwind, or to embrace

the torrent! and then might not rapture perchance be the portion of this liberated

soul?

I turned my sorrowful eyes toward a favourite spot, where I was accustomed

to  sit  with  Charlotte  beneath  a  willow  after  a  fatiguing  walk.  Alas!  it  was

covered with water, and with difficulty I found even the meadow. And the fields

around the hunting-lodge, thought I. Has our dear bower been destroyed by this

unpitying storm? And a beam of past happiness streamed upon me, as the mind

of  a  captive  is  illumined  by  dreams  of  flocks  and  herds  and  bygone  joys  of

home! But I am free from blame. I have courage to die! Perhaps I have, — but I

still  sit  here,  like  a  wretched  pauper,  who  collects  fagots,  and  begs  her  bread

from  door  to  door,  that  she  may  prolong  for  a  few  days  a  miserable  existence

which she is unwilling to resign.