O'ER field and plain, in childhood's artless days, <br />Thou sprang'st with me, on many a spring-morn fair. <br />"For such a daughter, with what pleasing care, <br />Would I, as father, happy dwellings raise!" <br />And when thou on the world didst cast thy gaze, <br />Thy joy was then in household toils to share. <br />"Why did I trust her, why she trust me e'er? <br />For such a sister, how I Heaven should praise!" <br />Nothing can now the beauteous growth retard; <br />Love's glowing flame within my breast is fann'd. <br />Shall I embrace her form, my grief to end? <br />Thee as a queen must I, alas, regard: <br />So high above me placed thou seem'st to stand; <br />Before a passing look I meekly bend.<br /><br />Johann Wolfgang von Goethe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/growth-2/
