Analysis of From

WHO never eat with tears his bread,

Who never through night's heavy hours
Sat weeping on his lonely bed,--

He knows you not, ye heavenly powers!

Through you the paths of life we gain,

Ye let poor mortals go astray,
And then abandon them to pain,--

E'en here the penalty we pay,
-----
WHO gives himself to solitude,

Soon lonely will remain;
Each lives, each loves in joyous mood,

And leaves him to his pain.

Yes! leave me to my grief!
Were solitude's relief

E'er granted me,

Alone I should not be.

A lover steals, on footstep light,

To learn if his love's alone;
Thus o'er me steals, by day and night,

Anguish before unknown,
Thus o'er me steals deep grief.
Ah, when I find relief

Within the tomb so lonely,

Will rest be met with only!