Quell, der nicht trocknet,
Quell, der nicht friert,
Aber oft stürmende
Fluthen führt.

Jung aus den Klüften
Dampft er so heiß,
Selber am wenigsten
Von sich weiß.

Weiß nicht von wannen,
Noch, was er soll –
Herz der verlangenden
Liebe voll!

Martin Greif
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