Poems of The Third Period, Friedrich Schiller [best thriller novels to read .txt] 📗

one.


G. G.

Each one, when seen by himself, is passably wise and judicious;
When they in corpore are, naught but a blockhead is seen.


THE MORAL POET.

Man is in truth a poor creature, - I know it, - and fain would forget it;
Therefore (how sorry I am!) came I, alas, unto thee!


THE DANAIDES.

Into the sieve we've been pouring for years, -
o'er the stone we've been brooding;
But the stone never warms, - nor does the sieve ever fill.


THE SUBLIME SUBJECT.

'Tis thy Muse's delight to sing God's pity to mortals;
But, that they pitiful are, - is it a matter for song?


THE ARTIFICE.

Wouldst thou give pleasure at once to the children of earth and
the righteous?
Draw the image of lust - adding the devil as well!


IMMORTALITY.

Dreadest thou the aspect of death! Thou wishest to live on forever?
Live in the whole, and when long thou shalt have gone, 'twill remain!


JEREMIADS.

All, both in prose and in verse, in Germany fast is decaying;
Far behind us, alas, lieth the golden age now! For by philosophers spoiled is our language - our logic by poets,
And no more common sense governs our passage through life. From the aesthetic, to which she belongs, now virtue is driven,
And into politics forced, where she's a troublesome guest. Where are we hastening now? If natural, dull we are voted,
And if we put on constraint, then the world calls us absurd. Oh, thou joyous artlessness 'mongst the poor maidens of Leipzig,
Witty simplicity come, - come, then, to glad us again! Comedy, oh repeat thy weekly visits so precious,
Sigismund, lover so sweet, - Mascarill, valet jocose! Tragedy, full of salt and pungency epigrammatic, -
And thou, minuet-step of our old buskin preserved! Philosophic romance, thou mannikin waiting with patience,
When, 'gainst the pruner's attack, Nature defendeth herself! Ancient prose, oh return, - so nobly and boldly expressing
All that thou thinkest and hast thought, - and what the reader thinks too All, both in prose and in verse, in Germany fast is decaying;
Far behind us, alas, lieth the golden age now!


SHAKESPEARE'S GHOST.

A PARODY.

I, too, at length discerned great Hercules' energy mighty, -
Saw his shade. He himself was not, alas, to be seen.
Round him were heard, like the screaming of birds,
the screams of tragedians,
And, with the baying of dogs, barked dramaturgists around.
There stood the giant in all his terrors; his bow was extended,
And the bolt, fixed on the string, steadily aimed at the heart.
"What still hardier action, unhappy one, dost thou now venture,
Thus to descend to the grave of the departed souls here?" -
"'Tis to see Tiresias I come, to ask of the prophet
Where I the buskin of old, that now has vanished, may find?"
"If they believe not in Nature, nor the old Grecian, but vainly
Wilt thou convey up from hence that dramaturgy to them."
"Oh, as for Nature, once more to tread our stage she has ventured,
Ay, and stark-naked beside, so that each rib we count."
"What? Is the buskin of old to be seen in truth on your stage, then,
Which even I came to fetch, out of mid-Tartarus' gloom?" -
"There is now no more of that tragic bustle, for scarcely
Once in a year on the boards moves thy great soul, harness-clad."
"Doubtless 'tis well! Philosophy now has refined your sensations,
And from the humor so bright fly the affections so black." -
"Ay, there is nothing that beats a jest that is stolid and barren,
But then e'en sorrow can please, if 'tis sufficiently moist."
"But do ye also exhibit the graceful dance of Thalia,
Joined to the solemn step with which Melpomene moves?" -
"Neither! For naught we love but what is Christian and moral;
And what is popular, too, homely, domestic, and plain."
"What? Does no Caesar, does no Achilles, appear on your stage now,
Not an Andromache e'en, not an Orestes, my friend?"
"No! there is naught to be seen there but parsons,
and syndics of commerce,
Secretaries perchance, ensigns, and majors of horse."
"But, my good friend, pray tell me, what can such people e'er meet with
That can be truly called great? - what that is great can they do?"
"What? Why they form cabals, they lend upon mortgage, they pocket
Silver spoons, and fear not e'en in the stocks to be placed."
"Whence do ye, then, derive the destiny, great and gigantic,
Which raises man up on high, e'en when it grinds him to dust?" -
"All mere nonsense! Ourselves, our worthy acquaintances also,
And our sorrows and wants, seek we, and find we, too, here."
"But all this ye possess at home both apter and better, -
Wherefore, then, fly from yourselves, if 'tis yourselves that ye seek?"
"Be not offended, great hero, for that is a different question;
Ever is destiny blind, - ever is righteous the bard."
"Then one meets on your stage your own contemptible nature,
While 'tis in vain one seeks there nature enduring and great?"
"There the poet is host, and act the fifth is the reckoning;
And, when crime becomes sick, virtue sits down to the feast!"


THE RIVERS.


RHINE.

True, as becometh a Switzer, I watch over Germany's borders;
But the light-footed Gaul jumps o'er the suffering stream.


RHINE AND MOSELLE.

Many a year have I clasped in my arms the Lorrainian maiden;
But our union as yet ne'er has been blest with a son.


DANUBE IN - -

Round me are dwelling the falcon-eyed race, the Phaeacian people;
Sunday with them never ends; ceaselessly moves round the spit.


MAIN.

Ay, it is true that my castles are crumbling; yet, to my comfort,
Have I for centuries past seen my old race still endure.


SAALE.

Short is my course, during which I salute many princes and nations;
Yet the princes are good - ay! and the nations are free.


ILM.

Poor are my banks, it is true; but yet my soft-flowing waters
Many immortal lays here, borne by the current along.


PLEISSE.

Flat is my shore and shallow my current; alas, all my writers,
Both in prose and in verse, drink far too deep of its stream!


ELBE.

All ye others speak only a jargon; 'mongst Germany's rivers
None speak German but me; I but in Misnia alone.


SPREE.

Ramler once gave me language, - my Caesar a subject; and therefore
I had my mouth then stuffed full; but I've been silent since that.


WESER.

Nothing, alas, can be said about me; I really can't furnish
Matter enough to the Muse e'en for an epigram, small.


MINERAL WATERS AT - - .

Singular country! what excellent taste in its fountains and rivers
In its people alone none have I ever yet found!


PEGNTTZ.

I for a long time have been a hypochondriacal subject;
I but flow on because it has my habit been long.


THE - - RIVERS.

We would gladly remain in the lands that own - as their masters;
Soft their yoke ever is, and all their burdens are light.


SALZACH.

I, to salt the archbishopric, come from Juvavia's mountains;
Then to Bavaria turn, where they have great need of salt!


THE ANONYMOUS RIVER.

Lenten food for the pious bishop's table to furnish,
By my Creator I'm poured over the famishing land.


LES FLEUVES INDISCRETS.

Pray be silent, ye rivers! One sees ye have no more discretion
Than, in a case we could name, Diderot's favorites had.


ZENITH AND NADIR.

Wheresoever thou wanderest in space, thy Zenith and Nadir
Unto the heavens knit thee, unto the axis of earth.
Howsoever thou attest, let heaven be moved by thy purpose,
Let the aim of thy deeds traverse the axis of earth!


KANT AND HIS COMMENTATORS.

See how a single rich man gives a living to numbers of beggars!
'Tis when sovereigns build, carters are kept in employ.


THE PHILOSOPHERS.

The principle by which each thing
Toward strength and shape first tended, -
The pulley whereon