C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
The Rose-Wreath
By Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock (17241803)
Translation of William Nind
I
I bound her with a wreath of rose:
She felt it not, but slumbered still.
My life with hers did blend and close:
I felt it, but I knew it not.
And rustled light the wreath of rose;
Then from her slumber she awoke.
Her life with mine did blend and close;
And round us it was Eden’s bower.