The Poems of Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [e novels for free .txt] 📗

long have worshipp'd thee; Thou gav'st me rest, when passions rack'd the boy,

Pervading ev'ry limb unceasingly; Thy heav'nly pinions thou didst then employ

The scorching sunbeams to ward off from me. From thee alone Earth's fairest gifts I gain'd, Through thee alone, true bliss can be obtain'd.

"Thy name I know not; yet I hear thee nam'd

By many a one who boasts thee as his own; Each eye believes that tow'rd thy form 'tis aim'd,

Yet to most eyes thy rays are anguish-sown. Ah! whilst I err'd, full many a friend I claim'd,

Now that I know thee, I am left alone; With but myself can I my rapture share, I needs must veil and hide thy radiance fair.

She smiled, and answering said: "Thou see'st how wise,

How prudent 'twas but little to unveil! Scarce from the clumsiest cheat are clear'd thine eyes,

Scarce hast thou strength thy childish bars to scale, When thou dost rank thee 'mongst the deities,

And so man's duties to perform would'st fail! How dost thou differ from all other men? Live with the world in peace, and know thee then!"

"Oh, pardon me," I cried, "I meant it well:

Not vainly did'st thou bless mine eyes with light; For in my blood glad aspirations swell,

The value of thy gifts I know aright! Those treasures in my breast for others dwell,

The buried pound no more I'll hide from sight. Why did I seek the road so anxiously, If hidden from my brethren 'twere to be?"

And as I answer'd, tow'rd me turn'd her face,

With kindly sympathy, that god-like one; Within her eye full plainly could I trace

What I had fail'd in, and what rightly done. She smiled, and cured me with that smile's sweet grace,

To new-born joys my spirit soar'd anon; With inward confidence I now could dare To draw yet closer, and observe her there.

Through the light cloud she then stretch'd forth her hand,

As if to bid the streaky vapour fly: At once it seemed to yield to her command,

Contracted, and no mist then met mine eye. My glance once more survey'd the smiling land,

Unclouded and serene appear'd the sky. Nought but a veil of purest white she held, And round her in a thousand folds it swell'd.

"I know thee, and I know thy wav'ring will.

I know the good that lives and glows in thee!"-- Thus spake she, and methinks I hear her still--

"The prize long destined, now receive from me; That blest one will be safe from ev'ry ill,

Who takes this gift with soul of purity,--" The veil of Minstrelsy from Truth's own hand, Of sunlight and of morn's sweet fragrance plann'd.

"And when thou and thy friends at fierce noon-day

Are parched with heat, straight cast it in the air! Then Zephyr's cooling breath will round you play,

Distilling balm and flowers' sweet incense there; The tones of earthly woe will die away,

The grave become a bed of clouds so fair, To sing to rest life's billows will be seen, The day be lovely, and the night serene."--

Come, then, my friends! and whensoe'er ye find

Upon your way increase life's heavy load; If by fresh-waken'd blessings flowers are twin'd

Around your path, and golden fruits bestow'd, We'll seek the coming day with joyous mind!

Thus blest, we'll live, thus wander on our road And when our grandsons sorrow o'er our tomb, Our love, to glad their bosoms, still shall bloom.

SONGS.

Late resounds the early strain; Weal and woe in song remain.

SOUND, SWEET SONG.

SOUND, sweet song, from some far land, Sighing softly close at hand,

Now of joy, and now of woe!

Stars are wont to glimmer so.

Sooner thus will good unfold; Children young and children old Gladly hear thy numbers flow.

1820.* ----- In the cases in which the date is marked thus (*), it signifies the original date of publication--the year of composition not being known. In other cases, the date given is that of the actual composition. All the poems are arranged in the order of the recognised German editions.

TO THE KIND READER.

No one talks more than a Poet; Fain he'd have the people know it.

Praise or blame he ever loves; None in prose confess an error, Yet we do so, void of terror,

In the Muses' silent groves.

What I err'd in, what corrected, What I suffer'd, what effected,

To this wreath as flow'rs belong; For the aged, and the youthful, And the vicious, and the truthful,

All are fair when viewed in song.

1800.* -----

THE NEW AMADIS.

IN my boyhood's days so drear

I was kept confined; There I sat for many a year,

All alone I pined, As within the womb.

Yet thou drov'st away my gloom,

Golden phantasy! I became a hero true,

Like the Prince Pipi, And the world roam'd through,

Many a crystal palace built,

Crush'd them with like art, And the Dragon's life-blood spilt

With my glitt'ring dart. Yes! I was a man!

Next I formed the knightly plan

Princess Fish to free; She was much too complaisant,

Kindly welcomed me,-- And I was gallant.

Heav'nly bread her kisses proved,

Glowing as the wine; Almost unto death I loved.

Sun-s appeared to shine In her dazzling charms.

Who hath torn her from mine arms?

Could no magic band Make her in her flight delay?

Say, where now her land? Where, alas, the way?

1775.* -----

WHEN THE FOX DIES, HIS SKIN COUNTS.*

(* The name of a game, known in English as "Jack's alight.")

WE young people in the shade

Sat one sultry day; Cupid came, and "Dies the Fox"

With us sought to play.

Each one of my friends then sat

By his mistress dear; Cupid, blowing out the torch,

Said: "The taper's here!"

Then we quickly sent around

The expiring brand; Each one put it hastily

ln his neighbour's hand.

Dorilis then gave it me,

With a scoffing jest; Sudden into flame it broke,

By my fingers press'd.

And it singed my eyes and face,

Set my breast on fire; Then above my head the blaze

Mounted ever higher.

Vain I sought to put it out;

Ever burned the flame; Stead of dying, soon the Fox

Livelier still became.

1770. -----

THE HEATHROSE.

ONCE a boy a Rosebud spied,

Heathrose fair and tender, All array'd in youthful pride,-- Quickly to the spot he hied,

Ravished by her splendour. Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,

Heathrose fair and tender!

Said the boy, "I'll now pick thee,

Heathrose fair and tender!" Said the rosebud, "I'll prick thee, So that thou'lt remember me,

Ne'er will I surrender!" Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,

Heathrose fair and tender!

Now the cruel boy must pick

Heathrose fair and tender; Rosebud did her best to prick,-- Vain 'twas 'gainst her fate to kick--

She must needs surrender. Rosebud, rosebud, rosebud red,

Heathrose fair and tender!

1779.* -----

BLINDMAN'S BUFF.

OH, my Theresa dear! Thine eyes, I greatly fear,

Can through the bandage see! Although thine eyes are bound, By thee I'm quickly found,

And wherefore shouldst thou catch but me?

Ere long thou held'st me fast, With arms around me cast,

Upon thy breast I fell; Scarce was thy bandage gone, When all my joy was flown,

Thou coldly didst the blind repel.

He groped on ev'ry side, His limbs he sorely tried,

While scoffs arose all round; If thou no love wilt give, In sadness I shall live,

As if mine eyes remain'd still bound.

1770. -----

CHRISTEL.

My senses ofttimes are oppress'd,

Oft stagnant is my blood; But when by Christel's sight I'm blest,

I feel my strength renew'd. I see her here, I see her there,

And really cannot tell The manner how, the when, the where,

The why I love her well.

If with the merest glance I view

Her black and roguish eyes, And gaze on her black eyebrows too,

My spirit upward flies. Has any one a mouth so sweet,

Such love-round cheeks as she? Ah, when the eye her beauties meet,

It ne'er content can be.

And when in airy German dance

I clasp her form divine, So quick we whirl, so quick advance,

What rapture then like mine! And when she's giddy, and feels warm,

I cradle her, poor thing, Upon my breast, and in mine arm,--

I'm then a very king!

And when she looks with love on me,

Forgetting all but this, When press'd against my bosom, she

Exchanges kiss for kiss, All through my marrow runs a thrill,

Runs e'en my foot along! I feel so well, I feel so ill,

I feel so weak, so strong!

Would that such moments ne'er would end!

The day ne'er long I find; Could I the night too with her spend,

E'en that I should not mind. If she were in mine arms but held,

To quench love's thirst I'd try; And could my torments not be quell'd,

Upon her breast would die.

1776.* ------

THE COY ONE.

ONE Spring-morning bright and fair,

Roam'd a shepherdess and sang; Young and beauteous, free from care,

Through the fields her clear notes rang: So, Ia, Ia! le ralla, &c.

Of his lambs some two or three

Thyrsis offer'd for a kiss; First she eyed him roguishly,

Then for answer sang but this: So, Ia, Ia! le ralla, &c.

Ribbons did the next one offer,

And the third, his heart so true But, as with the lambs, the scoffer

Laugh'd at heart and ribbons too,-- Still 'twas Ia! le ralla, &c.

1791. -----

THE CONVERT.

As at sunset I was straying

Silently the wood along, Damon on his flute was playing,

And the rocks gave back the song, So la, Ia! &c.

Softly tow'rds him then he drew me;

Sweet each kiss he gave me then! And I said, "Play once more to me!"

And he kindly play'd again, So la, la! &c.

All my peace for aye has fleeted,

All my happiness has flown; Yet my ears are ever greeted

With that olden, blissful tone, So la, la! &c.

1791. -----

PRESERVATION.

My maiden she proved false to me;

To hate all joys I soon began,

Then to a flowing stream I ran,-- The stream ran past me hastily.

There stood I fix'd, in mute despair;

My head swam round as in a dream;