For Whom?

Sweet fountain, that so freshly flows! And thou, my own carnation-rose, That shinest like a shining gem! And shall I tear thee from thy stem? For whom? my mother? ah! for whom? My mother slumbers in the tomb. For whom? my sister? she has fled, To seek a foreign bridal bed. For whom? my brother? he is far, Far off, in dark and bloody war. For whom, for whom, but thee, my love? But thou art absent far above, Above these three green mountains, Beyond these three fresh fountains!