Reflections and Aphorisms
IN A dream I saw myself in Goethe’s study. It bore no resemblance to that in Weimar. Above all it was very small and had only one window. The side of the writing desk abutted on the wall opposite the window. Writing at it sat the poet in extreme old age. I was standing to one side when he broke off to give me a small vase, an urn from antiquity, as a present. I turned it between my hands. An immense heat filled the room. Goethe rose to his feet and accompanied me to an adjoining chamber where a table was set for my relatives. It seemed prepared, however, for many more than their number. No doubt there were places for my ances- tors too. At the end, on the right, I sat down beside Goethe. When the meal was ended he rose with difficulty and by a gesture I sought leave to support him. Touching his elbow, I began to weep with emotion.
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