The dying words of Goethe.
 
"Light! more light! the shadows deepen,
   And my life is ebbing low,
Throw the windows widely open:
   Light! more light! before I go."
 
"Softly let the balmy sunshine
   Play around my dying bed,
E'er the dimly lighted valley
   I with lonely feet must tread."
 
"Light! more light! for Death is weaving
   Shadows 'round my waning sight,
And I fain would gaze upon him
   Through a stream of earthly light."
 
Not for greater gifts of genius;
   Not for thoughts more grandly bright,
All the dying poet whispers
   Is a prayer for light, more light.
 
Heeds he not the gathered laurels,
   Fading slowly from his sight;
All the poet's aspirations
   Centre in that prayer for light.

This poem is in the public domain.