21 This work, by chance, has been safeguarded, I have it still, so here it is: “Oh where, Oh where have you departed, my springtime’s golden days of bliss? What lies in store for me tomorrow? In vain I’ve tried to see the sorrow awaiting me and hidden deep beyond the murky mists of sleep. It matters not, for fate’s fair-minded: should I be pierced by its sharp dart, or should it miss my aching heart, it’s just! I’ll take it as I find it. Blest be the day with all its grief, blest too the night, which brings relief.
