Upon the stroke of twelve I hastened forth. I beheld a fearful
  sight. The foaming torrents rolled from the mountains in the moonlight，
  —— fields and meadows ， trees and hedges ， were confounded together
  ； and the entire valley was converted into a deep lake ， which was agitated
  by the roaring wind ！ And when the moon shone forth， and tinged the
  black clouds with silver， and the impetuous torrent at my feet foamed
  and resounded with awful and grand impetuosity， I was overcome by a mingled
  sensation of apprehension and delight. With extended arms I looked down
  into the yawning abyss， and cried， "Plunge！'" For a moment my senses
  forsook me， in the intense delight of ending my sorrows and my sufferings
  by a plunge into that gulf！ And then I felt as if I were rooted to the
  earth ， and incapable of seeking an end to my woes ！ But my hour is
  not yet come： I feel it is not. O Wilhelm， how willingly could I abandon
  my existence to ride the whirlwind， or to embrace the torrent！ and then
  might not rapture perchance be the portion of this liberated soul ？
  I turned my sorrowful eyes toward a favourite spot， where I was accustomed
  to sit with Charlotte beneath a willow after a fatiguing walk. Alas ！
  it was covered with water ， and with difficulty I found even the meadow.
  And the fields around the hunting-lodge ， thought I. Has our dear bower
  been destroyed by this unpitying storm？ And a beam of past happiness
  streamed upon me， as the mind of a captive is illumined by dreams of
  flocks and herds and bygone joys of home！ But I am free from blame. I
  have courage to die ！ Perhaps I have ，—— but I still sit here ， like
  a wretched pauper ， who collects fagots， and begs her bread from door
  to door ， that she may prolong for a few days a miserable existence which
  she is unwilling to resign.
  DECEMBER 15. What is the matter with me ， dear Wilhelm ？ I am afraid
  of myself ！ Is not my love for her of the purest ， most holy， and most
  brotherly nature？ Has my soul ever been sullied by a single sensual desire？
  but I will make no protestations. And now ， ye nightly visions ， how
  truly have those mortals understood you ， who ascribe your various contradictory
  effects to some invincible power！ This night I tremble at the avowal
  —— I held her in my arms， locked in a close embrace： I pressed her
  to my bosom ， and covered with countless kisses those dear lips which
  murmured in reply soft protestations of love. My sight became confused
  by the delicious intoxication of her eyes. Heavens！ is it sinful to revel
  again in such happiness ， to recall once more those rapturous moments
  with intense delight？ Charlotte！ Charlotte！ I am lost！ My senses are
  bewildered， my recollection is confused， mine eyes are bathed in tears
  —— I am ill ； and yet I am well—— I wish for nothing —— I have
  no desires—— it were better I were gone.
  Under the circumstances narrated above， a determination to quit this
  world had now taken fixed possession of Werther's soul. Since Charlotte's
  return， this thought had been the final object of all his hopes and wishes
  ； but he had resolved that such a step should not be taken with precipitation，
  but with calmness and tranquillity， and with the most perfect deliberation.
  His troubles and internal struggles may be understood from the following
  fragment， which was found， without any date ， amongst his papers ，
  and appears to have formed the beginning of a letter to Wilhelm.
  "Her presence ， her fate ， her sympathy for me， have power still
  to extract tears from my withered brain.
  "One lifts up the curtain ， and passes to the other side ，—— that
  is all！