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The Poems of Heine

by Heinrich Heine

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Bertha

She seem’d so gentle, she seem’d so good,
  An angel I thought my lover;
She wrote the dearest letters to me,
  With kindness teeming all over.

The wedding was very soon to take place,
  Her relations heard this by dozens;
My Bertha was a silly thing,
  For she listen’d to aunts and cousins.

She kept not her word, she broke her oath,
  And yet I have been forgiving;
Had I married her first, I ne’er should have known
  Either pleasure or love while living.

When I of a faithless woman think,
  I think of Bertha the faithless;
The only wish I have left, is that she
  May pass through her confinement scatheless.

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