Analysis of From Faust - V. Margaret At Her Spinning-Wheel

MY heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;
I find it never

When gone is he,
The grave I see;
The world's wide all
Is turned to gall.

Alas, my head

Is well-nigh crazed;
My feeble mind

Is sore amazed.

My heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;
I find it never

For him from the window

Alone I spy;
For him alone

From home go I.

His lofty step,

His noble form,
His mouth's sweet smile,

His glances warm,

His voice so fraught

With magic bliss,
His hand's soft pressure,

And, ah, his kiss!

My heart is sad,

My peace is o'er;
I find it never

My bosom yearns

For his form so fair;
Ah, could I clasp him

And hold him there!

My kisses sweet

Should stop his breath,
And 'neath his kisses

I'd sink in death!