The Poems of Goethe Translated in the original metres by Edgar Alfred Bowring THE TRANSLATOR'S ORIGINAL DEDICATION. TO THE COUNTESS GRANVILLE. MY DEAR LADY GRANVILLE,-- THE reluctance which must naturally be felt by any one in venturing to give to the world a book such as the present, where the beauties of the great original must inevitably be diminished, if not destroyed, in the process of passing through the translator's hands, cannot but be felt in all its force when that translator has not penetrated beyond the outer courts of the poetic fane, and can have no hope of advancing further, or of reaching its sanctuary. But it is to me a subject of peculiar satisfaction that your kind permission to have your name inscribed upon this page serves to attain a twofold end--one direct and personal, and relating to the present day; the other reflected and historical, and belonging to times long gone by. Of the first little need now be said, for the privilege is wholly mine, in making this dedication: as to the second, one word of explanation will suffice for those who have made the greatest poet of Germany, almost of the world, their study, and to whom the story of his life is not unknown. All who have followed the career of GOETHE are familiar with the name and character of DALBERG, and also with the deep and lasting friendship that existed between them, from which SCHILLER too was not absent; recalling to the mind the days of old, when a Virgil and a Horace and a Maecenas sat side by side. Remembering, then, the connection that, in a former century, was formed and riveted between your illustrious ancestor and him whom it is the object of these pages to represent, I deem it a happy augury that the link then established finds itself not wholly severed even now (although its strength may be immeasurably weakened in the comparison), inasmuch as this page brings them once more in contact, the one in the person of his own descendant, the other in that of the translator of his Poems. Believe me, with great truth, Very faithfully yours, EDGAR A. BOWRING. London, April, 1853. ORIGINAL PREFACE. I feel no small reluctance in venturing to give to the public a work of the character of that indicated by the title-page to the present volume; for, difficult as it must always be to render satisfactorily into one's own tongue the writings of the bards of other lands, the responsibility assumed by the translator is immeasurably increased when he attempts to transfer the thoughts of those great men, who have lived for all the world and for all ages, from the language in which they were originally clothed, to one to which they may as yet have been strangers. Preeminently is this the case with Goethe, the most masterly of all the master minds of modern times, whose name is already inscribed on the tablets of immortality, and whose fame already extends over the earth, although as yet only in its infancy. Scarcely have two decades passed away since he ceased to dwell among men, yet he now stands before us, not as a mere individual, like those whom the world is wont to call great, but as a type, as an emblem--the recognised emblem and representative of the human mind in its present stage of culture and advancement. Among the infinitely varied effusions of Goethe's pen, perhaps there are none which are of as general interest as his Poems, which breathe the very spirit of Nature, and embody the real music of the feelings. In Germany, they are universally known, and are considered as the most delightful of his works. Yet in this country, this kindred country, sprung from the same stem, and so strongly resembling her sister in so many points, they are nearly unknown. Almost the only poetical work of the greatest Poet that the world has seen for ages, that is really and generally read in England, is Faust, the translations of which are almost endless; while no single person has as yet appeared to attempt to give, in an English dress, in any collective or systematic manner, those smaller productions of the genius of Goethe which it is the object of the present volume to lay before the reader, whose indulgence is requested for its many imperfections. In addition to the beauty of the language in which the Poet has given utterance to his thoughts, there is a depth of meaning in those thoughts which is not easily discoverable at first sight, and the translator incurs great risk of overlooking it, and of giving a prosaic effect to that which in the original contains the very essence of poetry. It is probably this difficulty that has deterred others from undertaking the task I have set myself, and in which I do not pretend to do more than attempt to give an idea of the minstrelsy of one so unrivalled, by as truthful an interpretation of it as lies in my power. The principles which have guided me on the present occasion are the same as those followed in the translation of Schiller's complete Poems that was published by me in 1851, namely, as literal a rendering of the original as is consistent with good English, and also a very strict adherence to the metre of the original. Although translators usually allow themselves great license in both these points, it appears to me that by so doing they of necessity destroy the very soul of the work they profess to translate. In fact, it is not a translation, but a paraphrase that they give. It may perhaps be thought that the present translations go almost to the other extreme, and that a rendering of metre, line for line, and word for word, makes it impossible to preserve the poetry of the original both in substance and in sound. But experience has convinced me that it is not so, and that great fidelity is even the most essential element of success, whether in translating poetry or prose. It was therefore very satisfactory to me to find that the principle laid down by me to myself in translating Schiller met with the very general, if not universal, approval of the reader. At the same time, I have endeavoured to profit in the case of this, the younger born of the two attempts made by me to transplant the muse of Germany to the shores of Britain, by the criticisms, whether friendly or hostile, that have been evoked or provoked by the appearance of its elder brother. As already mentioned, the latter contained the whole of the Poems of Schiller. It is impossible, in anything like the same compass, to give all the writings of Goethe comprised under the general title of Gedichte, or poems. They contain between 30,000 and 40,000 verses, exclusive of his plays. and similar works. Very many of these would be absolutely without interest to the English reader,--such as those having only a local application, those addressed to individuals, and so on. Others again, from their extreme length, could only be published in separate volumes. But the impossibility of giving all need form no obstacle to giving as much as possible; and it so happens that the real interest of Goethe's Poems centres in those classes of them which are not too diffuse to run any risk when translated of offending the reader by their too great number. Those by far the more generally admired are the Songs and Ballads, which are about 150 in number, and the whole of which are contained in this volume (with the exception of one or two of the former, which have been, on consideration, left out by me owing to their trifling and uninteresting nature). The same may be said of the Odes, Sonnets, Miscellaneous Poems, &c. In addition to those portions of Goethe's poetical works which are given in this complete form, specimens of the different other classes of them, such as the Epigrams, Elegies, &c., are added, as well as a collection of the various Songs found in his Plays, making a total number of about 400 Poems, embraced in the present volume. A sketch of the life of Goethe is prefixed, in order that the reader may have before him both the Poet himself and the Poet's offspring, and that he may see that the two are but one--that Goethe lives in his works, that his works lived in him. The dates of the different Poems are appended throughout, that of the first publication being given, when that of the composition is unknown. The order of arrangement adopted is that of the authorized German editions. As Goethe would never arrange them himself in the chronological order of their composition, it has become impossible to do so, now that he is dead. The plan adopted in the present volume would therefore seem to be the best, as it facilitates reference to the original. The circumstances attending or giving rise to the production of any of the Poems will be found specified in those cases in which they have been ascertained by me. Having said thus much by way of explanation, I now leave the book to speak for itself, and to testify to its own character. Whether viewed with a charitable eye by the kindly reader, who will make due allowance for the difficulties attending its execution, or received by the critic, who will judge of it only by its own merits, with the unfriendly welcome which it very probably deserves, I trust that I shall at least be pardoned for making an attempt, a failure in which does not necessarily imply disgrace, and which, by leading the way, may perhaps become the means of inducing some abler and more worthy (but not more earnest) labourer to enter upon the same field, the riches of which will remain unaltered and undiminished in value, even although they may be for the moment tarnished by the hands of the less skilful workman who first endeavours to transplant them to a foreign soil. PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION. I have taken advantage of the publication of a Second Edition of my translation of the Poems of Goethe (originally published in 1853), to add to the Collection a version of the much admired classical Poem of Hermann and Dorothea, which was previously omitted by me in consequence of its length. Its universal popularity, however, and the fact that it exhibits the versatility of Goethe's talents to a greater extent than, perhaps, any other of his poetical works, seem to call for its admission into the present volume. On the other hand I have not thought it necessary to include the sketch of Goethe's Life that accompanied the First Edition. At the time of its publication, comparatively little was known in this country of the incidents of his career, and my sketch was avowedly written as a temporary stop-gap, as it were, pending the production of some work really deserving the tittle of a life of Goethe. Not to mention other contributions to the literature of the subject, Mr. Lewis's important volumes give the English reader all the information he is likely to require respecting Goethe's career, and my short memoir appeared to be no longer required. I need scarcely add that I have availed myself of this opportunity to make whatever improvements have suggested themselves to me in my original version of these Poems. E. A. B. London, 1874. CONTENTS. Original Dedication Original Preface Preface to the Second Edition List of the principal Works of Goethe Author's Dedication SONGS Sound, sweet Song, from some far Land To the kind Reader The New Amadis When the Fox dies, his Skin counts The Heathrose Blindman's Buff Christel The Coy One The Convert Preservation The Muses' Son Found Like and Like Reciprocal Invitation to the Dance Self-Deceit Declaration of War Lover in all Shapes The Goldsmith's Apprentice Answers in a Game of Questions Different Emotions on the same Spot Who'll buy Gods of love? The Misanthrope Different Threats Maiden Wishes Motives True Enjoyment The Farewell The Beautiful Night. Happiness and Vision Living Remembrance The Bliss of Absence To Luna The Wedding Night Mischievous Joy Apparent Death November Song To the Chosen One First Loss After Sensations Proximity of the Beloved One Presence To the Distant One By the River Farewell The Exchange Welcome and Farewell New Love, New Life To Belinda May Song With a painted Ribbon With a golden Necklace On the Lake From the Mountain Flower-Salute In Summer May Song Premature Spring Autumn Feelings Restless Love The Shepherd's Lament Comfort in Tears Night Song Longing To Mignon The Mountain Castle The Spirit's Salute To a Golden Heart that he wore round his neck The Bliss of Sorrow The Wanderer's Night-song The Same The Hunter's Even-Song To the Moon To Lina Ever and Everywhere Petition To his Coy One Night Thoughts To Lida Proximity Reciprocal Rollicking Hans The Freebooter Joy and Sorrow March April May June Next Year's Spring At Midnight Hour To the rising full Moon The Bridegroom Such, such is he who pleaseth me Sicilian Song Swiss Song Finnish Song Gipsy Song The Destruction of Magdeburg FAMILIAR SONGS. On the New Year Anniversary Song The Spring Oracle The Happy Couple Song of Fellowship Constancy in Change Table Song Wont and Done General Confession Coptic Song Another Vanitas! vanitatum vanitas! Fortune of War Open Table The Reckoning Ergo Bibamus! Epiphanias BALLADS. Mignon The Minstrel Ballad of the banished and returning Count The Violet The Faithless Boy The Erl-King Johanna Sebus The Fisherman The King of Thule The Beauteous Flower.. Sir Curt's Wedding Journey Wedding Song The Treasure-digger The Rat-catcher The Spinner Before a Court of Justice The Page and the Miller's Daughter The Youth and the Millstream The Maid of the Mill's Treachery The Maid of the Mill's Repentance The Traveller and the Farm-Maiden Effects at a distance The Walking Bell Faithful Eckart The Dance of Death The Pupil in Magic The Bride of Corinth The God and the Bayadere The Pariah I. The Pariah's Prayer. II. Legend III. The Pariah's Thanks Death--lament of the noble Wife of Asan Aga CANTATAS. Idyll Rinaldo The First Walpurgis-Night ODES. Three Odes to my Friend Mahomet's Song Spirit Song over the Waters My Goddess Winter Journey over the Hartz Mountains To Father Kronos. Written in a Post-chaise The Wanderer's Storm Song The Sea-Voyage The Eagle and Dove Prometheus Ganymede The Boundaries of Humanity The Godlike MISCELLANEOUS POEMS. The German Parnassus. Lily's Menagerie To Charlotte Love's Distresses The Musagetes Morning Lament The Visit The Magic Net The Goblet To the Grasshopper. After Anacreon From the Sorrows of Young Werther Trilogy of Passion :Ä I. To Werther II. Elegy III. Atonement The Remembrance of the Good When I was still a youthful Wight For Ever From an Album of 1604 Lines on seeing Schiller's Skull Royal Prayer Human Feelings On the Divan Hans Sachs' Poetical Mission SONNETS. The Friendly Meeting In a Word The Maiden Speaks Growth Food in Travel Departure The Loving One Writes. The Loving One once more She Cannot End Nemesis The Christmas Box The Warning The Epochs The Doubters and the Lovers Charade EPIGRAMS. To Originals The Soldier's Consolation Genial Impulse Neither this nor that The way to behave The best As broad as it's long The Rule of Life The same, expanded Calm at Sea The Prosperous Voyage Courage My only Property Admonition Old Age Epitaph Rules for Monarchs Paulo post futuri The Fool's Epilogue PARABLES. Joy Explanation of an antique Gem Cat-Pie Legend Authors The Critic The Dilettante and the Critic The Wrangler The Yelpers The Stork's Vocation Celebrity Playing at Priests Songs Poetry A Parable Should e'er the loveless day remain A Plan the Muses entertained The Death of the Fly By the River The Fox and Crane The Fox and Huntsman The Frogs The Wedding Burial Threatening Signs The Buyers The Mountain Village Symbols Three Palinodias :-- I. The Smoke that from thine Altar blows. II. Conflict of Wit and Beauty III. Rain and Rainbow. Valediction The Country Schoolmaster The Legend of the Horseshoe A Symbol ART. The Drops of Nectar The Wanderer I Love as a Landscape Painter GOD, SOUL, AND WORLD. Rhymed Distichs Prooemion The Metamorphosis of Plants PROVERBS TAME XENIA RELIGION AND CHURCH. Thoughts on Jesus Christ's descent into Hell ANTIQUES. Leopold, Duke of Brunswick To the Husbandman Anacreon's Grave The Brethren Measure of Time Warning Solitude The Chosen Cliff The Consecrated Spot The Instructors The Unequal Marriage. Excuse Sakontala The Muse's Mirror Phoebus and Hermes The New Amor The Garlands The Swiss Alps Distichs VENETIAN EPIGRAMS. ELEGIES. Roman Elegies Alexis and Dora Hermann and Dorothea WEST-EASTERN DIVAN. I. Minstrel's Book :-- Talismans The Four Favours Discord Song and Structure II. Book of Hafis :-- The Unlimited To Hafis III. Book of Love :-- The Types One Pair More Love's Torments IV. Book of Contemplation :-- Five Things For Woman Firdusi Suleika V. Book of Gloom :-- It is a Fault VI. Book of Proverbs VII. Book of Timur :-- The Winter and Timur To Suleika VIII. Book of Suleika :-- Suleika's Love Hatem Suleika Love for Love Hatem The Loving One speaks The Loving One again These tufted Branches fair Suleika The Sublime Type Suleika The Reunion Suleika In thousand forms IX. The Convivial Book :-- Can the Koran from Eternity be? Ye've often for our Drunkenness X. Book of Parables :-- From Heaven there fell upon the foaming wave Bulbul's Song In the Koran with strange delight. All kinds of Men. It is good XI. Book of the Parsees :-- The Bequest of the ancient Persian faith XII. Book of Paradise: The Privileged Men The favoured Beasts The Seven Sleepers SONGS FROM VARIOUS PLAYS, ETC. From Faust :-- Dedication Prologue in Heaven Chorus of Angels Chorus of Spirits Margaret at her Spinning Wheel Garden Scene Margaret's Song From FaustÄPart II.:-- Ariel's Song and Chorus of Spirits Scene the last From Iphigenia in Tauris :-- Song of the Fates From Gotz von Berlichingen :-- Liebetraut's Song From Egmont :-- Clara and Brackenburg's Song Clara's Song From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship :-- Who never eat with tears his bread Who gives himself to Solitude My Grief no Mortals know Sing no more in mournful tones Epilogue to Schiller's Song of the Bell L'ENVOI LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL WORKS OF GOETHE, WITH THE DATES OF THEIR COMPOSITION. I. DRAMATIC WORKS. TITLE AND DESCRIPTION. DATE, The Lover's Whim, Pastoral Drama.................. 1767Ä8 The Accomplices, Comedy........................... 1769 Satyros, or the Deified Satyr, Drama.............. 1774 Plundersweilern Fair, Puppet-show................. 1774 Prometheus, Dramatic fragment..................... 1773 Faust. Part I. Tragedy............................ 1773Ä1806 Part II. Tragedy completed in.............. 1831 Elpenor, a Fragment, Tragedy...................... 1781Ä3 Iphigenia auf Tauris, Classical drama............. 1786Ä7 Torquato Tasso, Classical drama................... 1787Ä9 The Natural Daughter, Tragedy..................... 1799Ä1803 Gotz von Berlichingen, Prose drama................ 1773 Egmont, Tragedy................................... 1775Ä87 Clavigo, Tragedy.................................. 1774 Stella, Tragedy................................... 1774 The Brother and Sister, Prose drama............... 1776 The Wager, Comedy................................. 1812 The Gross-Cophta, Comedy.......................... 1789 The Burgher-General, Comedy....................... 1793 The Rebels, Political drama....................... 1793 The Triumph of Sensibility, Dramatic whim......... 1777 The Birds, after Aristophanes, Comedy............. 1780 Erwin and Elmire, Melodrama....................... 1775Ä88 Claudine von Villa Bella, Melodrama............... 1775Ä88 Jery and Bately, Melodrama........................ 1779 Lila, Melodrama................................... 1777Ä8 The Fisher-Girl, Melodrama........................ 1782 Sport. Cunning, and Revenge, Opera Buffa.......... 1785 What we're bringing, Prelude...................... 1802 Pandora, Drama.................................... 1807Ä8 In addition to the above, there are nearly 20 minor dramatic pieces. II. PROSE WORKS. TITLE DATE, ROMANCES AND NOVELS:-- Sorrows of Werther............................. 1774 The Elective Affinities........................ 1809 Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship............... 1777Ä96 Wilhelm Meister's Wanderings................... 1807Ä29 Conversations of German Emigrants.............. 1793Ä5 Notes on Winckelmann.............................. 1805 Life of Philip Hackert............................ 1810-11 Life of Benvenuto Cellini (Translation)........... 1796Ä1803 Autobiography..................................... 1811Ä31 Letters from Switzerland.......................... 1775Ä1808 Tour in Italy..................................... 1786-1817 French Campaign................................... 1792Ä1822 Annals............................................ 1819-25 Art and Antiquity................................. 1815Ä28 Theory of Colours................................. 1790-1810 In addition to the above, Goethe produced an almost endless number of translations, criticisms, essays, &c. III. POETICAL WORKS. Other than those embraced in the plan of the present volume. TITLE DATE, Masonic Songs (7)................................. 1815Ä30 Poems on Pictures (21)............................ 1819, &c. Invectives (44)................................... 1802Ä24 Political poems (54).............................. 1814, &c. Masques (14)...................................... 1776-1818 Poems in the name of the citizens of Carlsbad (7). 1810Ä12 Poems on Individuals, &c. (209)................... 1778Ä1831 Chinese-German Poems (14)......................... 1827 Prophecies of Bakis (33).......................... 1798 The Four Seasons (99)............................. 1796 Epistles (3)...................................... 1794 Achilleis--Canto I................................ 1798Ä9 Reineke Fuchs..................................... 1793 Theatrical Prologues and Epilogues (12, including the Epilogue to the Song of the Bell, given in this volume)................................... 1782Ä1821 THE POEMS OF GOETHE. DEDICATION. The morn arrived; his footstep quickly scared The gentle sleep that round my senses clung, And I, awak'ning, from my cottage fared, And up the mountain side with light heart sprung; At every step I felt my gaze ensnared By new-born flow'rs that full of dew-drops hung; The youthful day awoke with ecstacy, And all things quicken'd were, to quicken me. And as I mounted, from the valley rose A streaky mist, that upward slowly spread, Then bent, as though my form it would enclose, Then, as on pinions, soar'd above my head: My gaze could now on no fair view repose, in mournful veil conceal'd, the world seem'd dead; The clouds soon closed around me, as a tomb, And I was left alone in twilight gloom. At once the sun his lustre seem'd to pour, And through the mist was seen a radiant light; Here sank it gently to the ground once more, There parted it, and climb'd o'er wood and height. How did I yearn to greet him as of yore, After the darkness waxing doubly bright! The airy conflict ofttimes was renew'd, Then blinded by a dazzling glow I stood. Ere long an inward impulse prompted me A hasty glance with boldness round to throw; At first mine eyes had scarcely strength to see, For all around appear'd to burn and glow. Then saw I, on the clouds borne gracefully, A godlike woman hov'ring to and fro. In life I ne'er had seen a form so fair-- She gazed at me, and still she hover'd there. "Dost thou not know me?" were the words she said In tones where love and faith were sweetly bound; "Knowest thou not Her who oftentimes hath shed The purest balsam in each earthly wound? Thou knows't me well; thy panting heart I led To join me in a bond with rapture crown'd. Did I not see thee, when a stripling, yearning To welcome me with tears, heartfelt and burning?" "Yes!" I exclaim'd, whilst, overcome with joy, I sank to earth; "I 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; I well-nigh fell into the stream, And earth seem'd with me whirling there. Sudden I heard a voice that cried-- I had just turn'd my face from thence-- It was a voice to charm each sense: "Beware, for deep is yonder tide!" A thrill my blood pervaded now, I look'd and saw a beauteous maid I asked her name--twas Kate, she said-- "Oh lovely Kate! how kind art thou! "From death I have been sav'd by thee, 'Tis through thee only that I live; Little 'twere life alone to give, My joy in life then deign to be!" And then I told my sorrows o'er, Her eyes to earth she sweetly threw; I kiss'd her, and she kiss'd me too, And--then I talked of death no more. 1775.* ----- THE MUSES' SON. [Goethe quotes the beginning of this song in his Autobiography, as expressing the manner in which his poetical effusions used to pour out from him.] THROUGH field and wood to stray, And pipe my tuneful lay,-- 'Tis thus my days are pass'd; And all keep tune with me, And move in harmony, And so on, to the last. To wait I scarce have power The garden's earliest flower, The tree's first bloom in Spring; They hail my joyous strain,-- When Winter comes again, Of that sweet dream I sing. My song sounds far and near, O'er ice it echoes clear, Then Winter blossoms bright; And when his blossoms fly, Fresh raptures meet mine eye, Upon the well-till'd height. When 'neath the linden tree, Young folks I chance to see, I set them moving soon; His nose the dull lad curls, The formal maiden whirls, Obedient to my tune. Wings to the feet ye lend, O'er hill and vale ye send The lover far from home; When shall I, on your breast,. Ye kindly muses, rest, And cease at length to roam? 1800.* ------ FOUND. ONCE through the forest Alone I went; To seek for nothing My thoughts were bent. I saw i' the shadow A flower stand there As stars it glisten'd, As eyes 'twas fair. I sought to pluck it,-- It gently said: "Shall I be gather'd Only to fade?" With all its roots I dug it with care, And took it home To my garden fair. In silent corner Soon it was set; There grows it ever, There blooms it yet. 1815.* ----- LIKE AND LIKE. A FAIR bell-flower Sprang tip from the ground; And early its fragrance It shed all around; A bee came thither And sipp'd from its bell; That they for each other Were made, we see well. 1814. ----- RECIPROCAL INVITATION TO THE DANCE. THE INDIFFERENT. COME to the dance with me, come with me, fair one! Dances a feast-day like this may well crown. If thou my sweetheart art not, thou canst be so, But if thou wilt not, we still will dance on. Come to the dance with me, come with me, fair one! Dances a feast-day like this may well crown. THE TENDER. Loved one, without thee, what then would all feast be? Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance? If thou my sweetheart wert not, I would dance not. If thou art still so, all life is one feast. Loved one, without thee, what then would all feasts be? Sweet one, without thee, what then were the dance? THE INDIFFERENT. Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing! Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance. Let us whirl round in the waltz's gay measure, And let them steal to the dim-lighted wood. Let them but love, then, and leave us the dancing! Languishing love cannot bear the glad dance. THE TENDER. Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander! Wand'ring to love is a heavenly dance. Cupid, the near one, o'erhears their deriding, Vengeance takes suddenly, vengeance takes soon. Let them whirl round, then, and leave us to wander! Wand'ring to love is a heavenly dance. 1789.* ----- SELF-DECEIT. My neighbour's curtain, well I see, Is moving to and fin. No doubt she's list'ning eagerly, If I'm at home or no. And if the jealous grudge I bore And openly confess'd, Is nourish'd by me as before, Within my inmost breast. Alas! no fancies such as these E'er cross'd the dear child's thoughts. I see 'tis but the ev'ning breeze That with the curtain sports. 1803. ----- DECLARATION OF WAR. OH, would I resembled The country girls fair, Who rosy-red ribbons And yellow hats wear! To believe I was pretty I thought was allow'd; In the town I believed it When by the youth vow'd. Now that Spring hath return'd, All my joys disappear; The girls of the country Have lured him from here. To change dress and figure, Was needful I found, My bodice is longer, My petticoat round. My hat now is yellow. My bodice like snow; The clover to sickle With others I go. Something pretty, e'er long Midst the troop he explores; The eager boy signs me To go within doors. I bashfully go,-- Who I am, he can't trace; He pinches my cheeks, And he looks in my face. The town girl now threatens You maidens with war; Her twofold charms pledges . Of victory are. 1803. ----- LOVER IN ALL SHAPES. To be like a fish, Brisk and quick, is my wish; If thou cam'st with thy line. Thou wouldst soon make me thine. To be like a fish, Brisk and quick, is my wish. Oh, were I a steed! Thou wouldst love me indeed. Oh, were I a car Fit to bear thee afar! Oh, were I a steed! Thou wouldst love me indeed. I would I were gold That thy fingers might hold! If thou boughtest aught then, I'd return soon again. I would I were gold That thy fingers might hold! I would I were true, And my sweetheart still new! To be faithful I'd swear, And would go away ne'er. I would I were true, And my sweetheart still new! I would I were old, And wrinkled and cold, So that if thou said'st No, I could stand such a blow! I would I were old, And wrinkled and cold. An ape I would be, Full of mischievous glee; If aught came to vex thee, I'd plague and perplex thee. An ape I would be, Full of mischievous glee As a lamb I'd behave, As a lion be brave, As a lynx clearly see, As a fox cunning be. As a lamb I'd behave, As a lion be brave. Whatever I were, All on thee I'd confer; With the gifts of a prince My affection evince. Whatever I were, All on thee I'd confer. As nought diff'rent can make me, As I am thou must take me! If I'm not good enough, Thou must cut thine own stuff. As nought diff'rent can make me, As I am thou must take me! 1815.* ----- THE GOLDSMITH'S APPRENTICE. My neighbour, none can e'er deny, Is a most beauteous maid; Her shop is ever in mine eye, When working at my trade. To ring and chain I hammer then The wire of gold assay'd, And think the while: "For Kate, oh when Will such a ring be made?" And when she takes her shutters down, Her shop at once invade, To buy and haggle, all the town, For all that's there displayd. I file, and maybe overfile The wire of gold assay'd; My master grumbles all the while,-- Her shop the mischief made. To ply her wheel she straight begins, When not engaged in trade; I know full well for what she spins,-- 'Tis hope guides that dear maid. Her leg, while her small foot treads on, Is in my mind portray'd; Her garter I recall anon,-- I gave it that dear maid. Then to her lips the finest thread Is by her hand convey'd. Were I there only in its stead, How I would kiss the maid! 1808. ----- ANSWERS IN A GAME OF QUESTIONS. THE LADY. IN the small and great world too, What most charms a woman's heart? It is doubtless what is new, For its blossoms joy impart; Nobler far is what is true, For fresh blossoms it can shoot Even in the time of fruit. THE YOUNG GENTLEMAN. With the Nymphs in wood and cave Paris was acquainted well, Till Zeus sent, to make him rave, Three of those in Heav'n who dwell; And the choice more trouble gave Than e'er fell to mortal lot, Whether in old times or not. THE EXPERIENCED. Tenderly a woman view, And thoult win her, take my word; He who's quick and saucy too, Will of all men be preferr'd; Who ne'er seems as if he knew If he pleases, if he charms,-- He 'tis injures, he 'tis harms. THE CONTENTED. Manifold is human strife, Human passion, human pain; Many a blessing yet is rife, Many pleasures still remain. Yet the greatest bliss in life, And the richest prize we find, Is a good, contented mind. THE MERRY COUNSEL. He by whom man's foolish will Is each day review'd and blamed, Who, when others fools are still, Is himself a fool proclaim'd,-- Ne'er at mill was beast's back press'd With a heavier load than he. What I feel within my breast That in truth's the thing for me! 1789. ----- DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT. THE MAIDEN. I'VE seen him before me! What rapture steals o'er me! Oh heavenly sight! He's coming to meet me; Perplex'd, I retreat me, With shame take to flight. My mind seems to wander! Ye rocks and trees yonder, Conceal ye my rapture. Conceal my delight! THE YOUTH. 'Tis here I must find her, 'Twas here she enshrined her, Here vanish'd from sight. She came, as to meet me, Then fearing to greet me, With shame took to flight. Is't hope? Do I wander? Ye rocks and trees yonder, Disclose ye the loved one, Disclose my delight! THE LANGUISHING. O'er my sad, fate I sorrow, To each dewy morrow, Veil'd here from man's sight By the many mistaken, Unknown and forsaken, Here I wing my flight! Compassionate spirit! Let none ever hear it,-- Conceal my affliction, Conceal thy delight! THE HUNTER. To-day I'm rewarded; Rich booty's afforded By Fortune so bright. My servant the pheasants, And hares fit for presents Takes homeward at night; Here see I enraptured In nets the birds captured!-- Long life to the hunter! Long live his delight! 1789. ----- WHO'LL BUY GODS OF LOVE? OF all the beauteous wares Exposed for sale at fairs, None will give more delight Than those that to your sight From distant lands we bring. Oh, hark to what we sing! These beauteous birds behold, They're brought here to be sold. And first the big one see, So full of roguish glee! With light and merry bound He leaps upon the ground; Then springs up on the bougd, We will not praise him now. The merry bird behold,-- He's brought here to be sold. And now the small one see! A modest look has he, And yet he's such apother As his big roguish brother. 'Tis chiefly when all's still He loves to show his will. The bird so small and bold,-- He's brought here to be sold. Observe this little love, This darling turtle dove! All maidens are so neat, So civil, so discreet Let them their charms set loose, And turn your love to use; The gentle bird behold,-- She's brought here to be sold. Their praises we won't tell; They'll stand inspection well. They're fond of what is new,-- And yet, to show they're true, Nor seal nor letter's wanted; To all have wings been granted. The pretty birds behold,-- Such beauties ne'er were sold! 1795. ----- THE MISANTHROPE. AT first awhile sits he, With calm, unruffled brow; His features then I see, Distorted hideously,-- An owl's they might be now. What is it, askest thou? Is't love, or is't ennui? 'Tis both at once, I vow. 1767-9. ----- DIFFERENT THREATS. I ONCE into a forest far My maiden went to seek, And fell upon her neck, when: "Ah!" She threaten'd, "I will shriek!" Then cried I haughtily: "I'll crush The man that dares come near thee!" "Hush!" whisper'd she: "My loved one, hush! Or else they'll overhear thee!" 1767-9. ----- MAIDEN WISHES. WHAT pleasure to me A bridegroom would be! When married we are, They call us mamma. No need then to sew, To school we ne'er go; Command uncontroll'd, Have maids, whom to scold; Choose clothes at our ease, Of what tradesmen we please; Walk freely about, And go to each rout, And unrestrained are By papa or mamma. 1767-9. ----- MOTIVES. IF to a girl who loves us truly Her mother gives instruction duly In virtue, duty, and what not,-- And if she hearkens ne'er a jot, But with fresh-strengthen'd longing flies To meet our kiss that seems to burn,-- Caprice has just as much concerned As love in her bold enterprise. But if her mother can succeed In gaining for her maxims heed, And softening the girl's heart too, So that she coyly shuns our view,-- The heart of youth she knows but ill; For when a maiden is thus stern, Virtue in truth has less concern In this, than an inconstant will. 1767-9. ----- TRUE ENJOYMENT. VAINLY wouldst thou, to gain a heart, Heap up a maiden's lap with gold; The joys of love thou must impart, Wouldst thou e'er see those joys unfold. The voices of the throng gold buys, No single heart 'twill win for thee; Wouldst thou a maiden make thy prize, Thyself alone the bribe must be. If by no sacred tie thou'rt bound, Oh youth, thou must thyself restrain! Well may true liberty be found, Tho' man may seem to wear a chain. Let one alone inflame thee e'er, And if her heart with love o'erflows, Let tenderness unite you there, If duty's self no fetter knows. First feel, oh youth! A girl then find Worthy thy choice,--let her choose thee, In body fair, and fair in mind, And then thou wilt be blessed, like me. I who have made this art mine own, A girl have chosen such as this The blessing of the priest alone Is wanting to complete our bliss. Nought but my rapture is her guide, Only for me she cares to please,-- Ne'er wanton save when by my side, And modest when the world she sees; That time our glow may never chill, She yields no right through frailty; Her favour is a favour still, And I must ever grateful be. Yet I'm content, and full of joy, If she'll but grant her smile so sweet, Or if at table she'll employ, To pillow hers, her lover's feet, Give me the apple that she bit, The glass from which she drank, bestow, And when my kiss so orders it, Her bosom, veil'd till then, will show. And when she wills of love to speak, In fond and silent hours of bliss, Words from her mouth are all I seek, Nought else I crave,--not e'en a kiss. With what a soul her mind is fraught, Wreath'd round with charms unceasingly! She's perfect,--and she fails in nought Save in her deigning to love me. My rev'rence throws me at her feet, My longing throws me on her breast; This, youth, is rapture true and sweet, Be wise, thus seeking to be blest. When death shall take thee from her side, To join the angelic choir above, In heaven's bright mansions to abide,-- No diff'rence at the change thoult prove. 1767-8. ----- THE FAREWELL. [Probably addressed to his mistress Frederica.] LET mine eye the farewell say, That my lips can utter ne'er; Fain I'd be a man to-day, Yet 'tis hard, oh, hard to bear! Mournful in an hour like this Is love's sweetest pledge, I ween; Cold upon thy mouth the kiss, Faint thy fingers' pressure e'en. Oh what rapture to my heart Used each stolen kiss to bring! As the violets joy impart, Gather'd in the early spring. Now no garlands I entwine, Now no roses pluck. for thee, Though 'tis springtime, Fanny mine, Dreary autumn 'tis to me! 1771. ----- THE BEAUTIFUL NIGHT. Now I leave this cottage lowly, Where my love hath made her home, And with silent footstep slowly Through the darksome forest roam, Luna breaks through oaks and bushes, Zephyr hastes her steps to meet, And the waving birch-tree blushes, Scattering round her incense sweet. Grateful are the cooling breezes Of this beauteous summer night, Here is felt the charm that pleases, And that gives the soul delight. Boundless is my joy; yet, Heaven, Willingly I'd leave to thee Thousand such nights, were one given By my maiden loved to me! 1767-8. ----- HAPPINESS AND VISION. TOGETHER at the altar we In vision oft were seen by thee, Thyself as bride, as bridegroom I. Oft from thy mouth full many a kiss In an unguarded hour of bliss I then would steal, while none were by. The purest rapture we then knew, The joy those happy hours gave too, When tasted, fled, as time fleets on. What now avails my joy to me? Like dreams the warmest kisses flee, Like kisses, soon all joys are gone. 1767-8. ----- LIVING REMEMBRANCE. HALF vex'd, half pleased, thy love will feel, Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal; To thee they're much--I won't conceal; Such self-deceit may pardon'd be; A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings, In truth are no mean trifling things, But still they're not enough for me. She who is dearest to my heart, Gave me, with well dissembled smart, Of her own life, a living part, No charm in aught beside I trace; How do I scorn thy paltry ware! A lock she gave me of the hair That wantons o'er her beauteous face. If, loved one, we must sever'd be, Wouldst thou not wholly fly from me, I still possess this legacy, To look at, and to kiss in play.-- My fate is to the hair's allied, We used to woo her with like pride, And now we both are far away. Her charms with equal joy we press'd, Her swelling cheeks anon caress'd, Lured onward by a yearning blest, Upon her heaving bosom fell. Oh rival, free from envy's sway, Thou precious gift, thou beauteous prey. Remain my joy and bliss to tell! 1767-9. ----- THE BLISS OF ABSENCE. DRINK, oh youth, joy's purest ray From thy loved one's eyes all day, And her image paint at night! Better rule no lover knows, Yet true rapture greater grows, When far sever'd from her sight. Powers eternal, distance, time, Like the might of stars sublime, Gently rock the blood to rest, O'er my senses softness steals, Yet my bosom lighter feels, And I daily am more blest. Though I can forget her ne'er, Yet my mind is free from care, I can calmly live and move; Unperceived infatuation Longing turns to adoration, Turns to reverence my love. Ne'er can cloud, however light, Float in ether's regions bright, When drawn upwards by the sun, As my heart in rapturous calm. Free from envy and alarm, Ever love I her alone! 1767-9. ----- TO LUNA. SISTER of the first-born light, Type of sorrowing gentleness! Quivering mists in silv'ry dress Float around thy features bright; When thy gentle foot is heard, From the day-closed caverns then Wake the mournful ghosts of men, I, too, wake, and each night-bird. O'er a field of boundless span Looks thy gaze both far and wide. Raise me upwards to thy side! Grant this to a raving man! And to heights of rapture raised, Let the knight so crafty peep At his maiden while asleep, Through her lattice-window glazed. Soon the bliss of this sweet view, Pangs by distance caused allays; And I gather all thy rays, And my look I sharpen too. Round her unveil'd limbs I see Brighter still become the glow, And she draws me down below, As Endymion once drew thee. 1767-9. ----- THE WEDDING NIGHT. WITHIN the chamber, far away From the glad feast, sits Love in dread Lest guests disturb, in wanton play, The silence of the bridal bed. His torch's pale flame serves to gild The scene with mystic sacred glow; The room with incense-clouds is fil'd, That ye may perfect rapture know. How beats thy heart, when thou dost hear The chime that warns thy guests to fly! How glow'st thou for those lips so dear, That soon are mute, and nought deny! With her into the holy place Thou hast'nest then, to perfect all; The fire the warder's hands embrace, Grows, like a night-light, dim and small. How heaves her bosom, and how burns Her face at every fervent kiss! Her coldness now to trembling turns, Thy daring now a duty is. Love helps thee to undress her fast, But thou art twice as fast as he; And then he shuts both eye at last, With sly and roguish modesty. 1767. ----- MISCHIEVOUS JOY. AS a butterfly renew'd, When in life I breath'd my last, To the spots my flight I wing, Scenes of heav'nly rapture past, Over meadows, to the spring, Round the hill, and through the wood. Soon a tender pair I spy, And I look down from my seat On the beauteous maiden's head-- When embodied there I meet All I lost as soon as dead, Happy as before am I. Him she clasps with silent smile, And his mouth the hour improves, Sent by kindly Deities; First from breast to mouth it roves, Then from mouth to hands it flies, And I round him sport the while. And she sees me hov'ring near; Trembling at her lovers rapture, Up she springs--I fly away, "Dearest! let's the insect capture Come! I long to make my prey Yonder pretty little dear!" 1767-9. ----- APPARENT DEATH. WEEP, maiden, weep here o'er the tomb of Love; He died of nothing--by mere chance was slain. But is he really dead?--oh, that I cannot prove: A nothing, a mere chance, oft gives him life again. 1767-9. ----- NOVEMBER SONG. To the great archer--not to him To meet whom flies the sun, And who is wont his features dim With clouds to overrun-- But to the boy be vow'd these rhymes, Who 'mongst the roses plays, Who hear us, and at proper times To pierce fair hearts essays. Through him the gloomy winter night, Of yore so cold and drear, Brings many a loved friend to our sight, And many a woman dear. Henceforward shall his image fair Stand in yon starry skies, And, ever mild and gracious there, Alternate set and rise. 1815.* ----- TO THE CHOSEN ONE. [This sweet song is doubtless one of those addressed to Frederica.] HAND in hand! and lip to lip! Oh, be faithful, maiden dear! Fare thee well! thy lover's ship Past full many a rock must steers But should he the haven see, When the storm has ceased to break, And be happy, reft of thee,-- May the Gods fierce vengeance take! Boldly dared is well nigh won! Half my task is solved aright; Ev'ry star's to me a sun, Only cowards deem it night. Stood I idly by thy side, Sorrow still would sadden me; But when seas our paths divide, Gladly toil I,--toil for thee! Now the valley I perceive, Where together we will go, And the streamlet watch each eve, Gliding peacefully below Oh, the poplars on yon spot! Oh, the beech trees in yon grove! And behind we'll build a cot, Where to taste the joys of love! 1771. ----- FIRST LOSS. AH! who'll e'er those days restore, Those bright days of early love Who'll one hour again concede, Of that time so fondly cherish'd! Silently my wounds I feed, And with wailing evermore Sorrow o'er each joy now perish'd. Ah! who'll e'er the days restore Of that time so fondly cherish'd. 1789.* ----- AFTER-SENSATIONS. WHEN the vine again is blowing, Then the wine moves in the cask; When the rose again is glowing, Wherefore should I feel oppress'd? Down my cheeks run tears all-burning, If I do, or leave my task; I but feel a speechless yearning, That pervades my inmost breast. But at length I see the reason, When the question I would ask: 'Twas in such a beauteous season, Doris glowed to make me blest! 1797. ----- PROXIMITY OF THE BELOVED ONE. I THINK of thee, whene'er the sun his beams O'er ocean flings; I think of thee, whene'er the moonlight gleams In silv'ry springs. I see thee, when upon the distant ridge The dust awakes; At midnight's hour, when on the fragile bridge The wanderer quakes. I hear thee, when yon billows rise on high, With murmur deep. To tread the silent grove oft wander I, When all's asleep. I'm near thee, though thou far away mayst be-- Thou, too, art near! The sun then sets, the stars soon lighten me. Would thou wert here! 1795. ----- PRESENCE. ALL things give token of thee! As soon as the bright sun is shining, Thou too wilt follow, I trust. When in the garden thou walk'st, Thou then art the rose of all roses, Lily of lilies as well. When thou dost move in the dance, Then each constellation moves also; With thee and round thee they move. Night! oh, what bliss were the night! For then thou o'ershadow'st the lustre, Dazzling and fair, of the moon. Dazzling and beauteous art thou, And flowers, and moon, and the planets Homage pay, Sun, but to thee. Sun! to me also be thou Creator of days bright and glorious; Life and Eternity this! 1813. ----- TO THE DISTANT ONE. AND have I lost thee evermore? Hast thou, oh fair one, from me flown? Still in mine ear sounds, as of yore, Thine ev'ry word, thine ev'ry tone. As when at morn the wand'rer's eye Attempts to pierce the air in vain, When, hidden in the azure sky, The lark high o'er him chaunts his strain: So do I cast my troubled gaze Through bush, through forest, o'er the lea; Thou art invoked by all my lays; Oh, come then, loved one, back to me! 1789.* ----- BY THE RIVER. FLOW on, ye lays so loved, so fair, On to Oblivion's ocean flow! May no rapt boy recall you e'er, No maiden in her beauty's glow! My love alone was then your theme, But now she scorns my passion true. Ye were but written in the stream; As it flows on, then, flow ye too! 1798.* ----- FAREWELL. To break one's word is pleasure-fraught, To do one's duty gives a smart; While man, alas! will promise nought, That is repugnant to his heart. Using some magic strains of yore, Thou lurest him, when scarcely calm, On to sweet folly's fragile bark once more, Renewing, doubling chance of harm. Why seek to hide thyself from me? Fly not my sight--be open then! Known late or early it must be, And here thou hast thy word again. My duty is fulfill'd to-day, No longer will I guard thee from surprise; But, oh, forgive the friend who from thee turns away, And to himself for refuge flies! 1797. ----- THE EXCHANGE. THE stones in the streamlet I make my bright pillow, And open my arms to the swift-rolling billow, That lovingly hastens to fall on my breast. Then fickleness soon bids it onwards be flowing; A second draws nigh, its caresses bestowing,-- And so by a twofold enjoyment I'm blest. And yet thou art trailing in sorrow and sadness The moments that life, as it flies, gave for gladness, Because by thy love thou'rt remember'd no more! Oh, call back to mind former days and their blisses! The lips of the second will give as sweet kisses As any the lips of the first gave before! 1767-9. ----- WELCOME AND FAREWELL. [Another of the love-songs addressed to Frederica.] QUICK throbb'd my heart: to norse! haste, haste, And lo! 'twas done with speed of light; The evening soon the world embraced, And o'er the mountains hung the night. Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak, A tow'ring giant in his size, Where darkness through the thicket broke, And glared with hundred gloomy eyes. From out a hill of clouds the moon With mournful gaze began to peer: The winds their soft wings flutter'd soon, And murmur'd in mine awe-struck ear; The night a thousand monsters made, Yet fresh and joyous was my mind; What fire within my veins then play'd! What glow was in my bosom shrin'd! I saw thee, and with tender pride Felt thy sweet gaze pour joy on me; While all my heart was at thy side. And every breath I breath'd for thee. The roseate hues that spring supplies Were playing round thy features fair, And love for me--ye Deities! I hoped it, I deserved it ne'er! But, when the morning sun return'd, Departure filled with grief my heart: Within thy kiss, what rapture burn'd! But in thy look, what bitter smart! I went--thy gaze to earth first roved Thou follow'dst me with tearful eye: And yet, what rapture to be loved! And, Gods, to love--what ecstasy! 1771. ----- NEW LOVE, NEW LIFE. [Written at the time of Goethe's connection with Lily.] HEART! my heart! what means this feeling? What oppresseth thee so sore? What strange life is o'er me stealing! I acknowledge thee no more. Fled is all that gave thee gladness, Fled the cause of all thy sadness, Fled thy peace, thine industry-- Ah, why suffer it to be? Say, do beauty's graces youthful, Does this form so fair and bright, Does this gaze, so kind, so truthful, Chain thee with unceasing might? Would I tear me from her boldly, Courage take, and fly her coldly, Back to her. I'm forthwith led By the path I seek to tread. By a thread I ne'er can sever, For 'tis 'twined with magic skill, Doth the cruel maid for ever Hold me fast against my will. While those magic chains confine me, To her will I must resign me. Ah, the change in truth is great! Love! kind love! release me straight! 1775. ----- TO BELINDA. [This song was also written for Lily. Goethe mentions, at the end of his Autobiography, that he overheard her singing it one evening after he had taken his last farewell of her.] WHEREFORE drag me to yon glittering eddy, With resistless might? Was I, then, not truly blest already In the silent night? In my secret chamber refuge taking, 'Neath the moon's soft ray, And her awful light around me breaking, Musing there I lay. And I dream'd of hours with joy o'erflowing, Golden, truly blest, While thine image so beloved was glowing Deep within my breast. Now to the card-table hast thou bound me, 'Midst the torches glare? Whilst unhappy faces are around me, Dost thou hold me there? Spring-flow'rs are to me more rapture-giving, Now conceal'd from view; Where thou, angel, art, is Nature living, Love and kindness too. 1775. ----- MAY SONG. How fair doth Nature Appear again! How bright the sunbeams! How smiles the plain! The flow'rs are bursting From ev'ry bough, And thousand voices Each bush yields now. And joy and gladness Fill ev'ry breast! Oh earth!--oh sunlight! Oh rapture blest! Oh love! oh loved one! As golden bright, As clouds of morning On yonder height! Thou blessest gladly The smiling field,-- The world in fragrant Vapour conceal'd. Oh maiden, maiden, How love I thee! Thine eye, how gleams it! How lov'st thou me! The blithe lark loveth Sweet song and air, The morning flow'ret Heav'n's incense fair, As I now love thee With fond desire, For thou dost give me Youth, joy, and fire, For new-born dances And minstrelsy. Be ever happy, As thou lov'st me! 1775.* ----- WITH A PAINTED RIBBON. LITTLE leaves and flow'rets too, Scatter we with gentle hand, Kind young spring-gods to the view, Sporting on an airy band. Zephyr, bear it on the wing, Twine it round my loved one's dress; To her glass then let her spring, Full of eager joyousness. Roses round her let her see, She herself a youthful rose. Grant, dear life, one look to me! 'Twill repay me all my woes, What this bosom feels, feel thou. Freely offer me thy hand; Let the band that joins us now Be no fragile rosy band! 1770. ----- WITH A GOLDEN NECKLACE. THIS page a chain to bring thee burns, That, train'd to suppleness of old, On thy fair neck to nestle, yearns, In many a hundred little fold. To please the silly thing consent! 'Tis harmless, and from boldness free; By day a trifling ornament, At night 'tis cast aside by thee. But if the chain they bring thee ever, Heavier, more fraught with weal or woe, I'd then, Lisette, reproach thee never If thou shouldst greater scruples show. 1775.* ----- ON THE LAKE, [Written on the occasion of Goethe's starting with his friend Passavant on a Swiss Tour.] I DRINK fresh nourishment, new blood From out this world more free; The Nature is so kind and good That to her breast clasps me! The billows toss our bark on high, And with our oars keep time, While cloudy mountains tow'rd the sky Before our progress climb. Say, mine eye, why sink'st thou down? Golden visions, are ye flown? Hence, thou dream, tho' golden-twin'd; Here, too, love and life I find. Over the waters are blinking Many a thousand fair star; Gentle mists are drinking Round the horizon afar. Round the shady creek lightly Morning zephyrs awake, And the ripen'd fruit brightly Mirrors itself in the lake. 1775. ----- FROM THE MOUNTAIN. [Written just after the preceding one, on a mountain overlooking the Lake of Zurich.] IF I, dearest Lily, did not love thee, How this prospect would enchant my sight! And yet if I, Lily, did not love thee, Could I find, or here, or there, delight? 1775. ----- FLOWER-SALUTE. THIS nosegay,--'twas I dress'd it,-- Greets thee a thousand times! Oft stoop'd I, and caress'd it, Ah! full a thousand times, And 'gainst my bosom press'd it A hundred thousand times! 1815.* ----- IN SUMMER. How plain and height With dewdrops are bright! How pearls have crown'd The plants all around! How sighs the breeze Thro' thicket and trees! How loudly in the sun's clear rays The sweet birds carol forth their lays! But, ah! above, Where saw I my love, Within her room, Small, mantled in gloom, Enclosed around, Where sunlight was drown'd, How little there was earth to me, With all its beauteous majesty! 1776.* ----- MAY SONG. BETWEEN wheatfield and corn, Between hedgerow and thorn, Between pasture and tree, Where's my sweetheart Tell it me! Sweetheart caught I Not at home; She's then, thought I. Gone to roam. Fair and loving Blooms sweet May; Sweetheart's roving, Free and gay. By the rock near the wave, Where her first kiss she gave, On the greensward, to me,-- Something I see! Is it she? 1812. ----- PREMATURE SPRING. DAYS full of rapture, Are ye renew'd ?-- Smile in the sunlight Mountain and wood? Streams richer laden Flow through the dale, Are these the meadows? Is this the vale? Coolness cerulean! Heaven and height! Fish crowd the ocean, Golden and bright. Birds of gay plumage Sport in the grove, Heavenly numbers Singing above. Under the verdure's Vigorous bloom, Bees, softly bumming, Juices consume. Gentle disturbance Quivers in air, Sleep-causing fragrance, Motion so fair. Soon with more power Rises the breeze, Then in a moment Dies in the trees. But to the bosom Comes it again. Aid me, ye Muses, Bliss to sustain! Say what has happen'd Since yester e'en? Oh, ye fair sisters, Her I have seen! 1802. ----- AUTUMN FEELINGS. FLOURISH greener, as ye clamber, Oh ye leaves, to seek my chamber, Up the trellis'd vine on high! May ye swell, twin-berries tender, Juicier far,--and with more splendour Ripen, and more speedily! O'er ye broods the sun at even As he sinks to rest, and heaven Softly breathes into your ear All its fertilising fullness, While the moon's refreshing coolness, Magic-laden, hovers near; And, alas! ye're watered ever By a stream of tears that rill From mine eyes--tears ceasing never, Tears of love that nought can still! 1775.* ----- RESTLESS LOVE. THROUGH rain, through snow, Through tempest go! 'Mongst streaming caves, O'er misty waves, On, on! still on! Peace, rest have flown! Sooner through sadness I'd wish to be slain, Than all the gladness Of life to sustain All the fond yearning That heart feels for heart, Only seems burning To make them both smart. How shall I fly? Forestwards hie? Vain were all strife! Bright crown of life. Turbulent bliss,-- Love, thou art this! 1789. ----- THE SHEPHERD'S LAMENT. ON yonder lofty mountain A thousand times I stand, And on my staff reclining, Look down on the smiling land. My grazing flocks then I follow, My dog protecting them well; I find myself in the valley, But how, I scarcely can tell. The whole of the meadow is cover'd With flowers of beauty rare; I pluck them, but pluck them unknowing To whom the offering to bear. In rain and storm and tempest, I tarry beneath the tree, But closed remaineth yon portal; 'Tis all but a vision to me. High over yonder dwelling, There rises a rainbow gay; But she from home hath departed And wander'd far, far away. Yes, far away bath she wander'd, Perchance e'en over the sea; Move onward, ye sheep, then, move onward! Full sad the shepherd must be. 1803.* ----- COMFORT IN TEARS. How happens it that thou art sad, While happy all appear? Thine eye proclaims too well that thou Hast wept full many a tear. "If I have wept in solitude, None other shares my grief, And tears to me sweet balsam are, And give my heart relief." Thy happy friends invite thee now,-- Oh come, then, to our breast! And let the loss thou hast sustain'd Be there to us confess'd! "Ye shout, torment me, knowing not What 'tis afflicteth me; Ah no! I have sustained no loss, Whate'er may wanting be." If so it is, arise in haste! Thou'rt young and full of life. At years like thine, man's blest with strength. And courage for the strife. "Ah no! in vain 'twould be to strive, The thing I seek is far; It dwells as high, it gleams as fair As yonder glitt'ring star." The stars we never long to clasp, We revel in their light, And with enchantment upward gaze, Each clear and radiant night. "And I with rapture upward gaze, On many a blissful day; Then let me pass the night in tears, Till tears are wip'd away! 1803.* ----- NIGHT SONG, WHEN on thy pillow lying, Half listen, I implore, And at my lute's soft sighing, Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? For at my lute's soft sighing The stars their blessings pour On feelings never-dying; Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? Those feelings never-dying My spirit aid to soar From earthly conflicts trying; Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? From earthly conflicts trying Thou driv'st me to this shore; Through thee I'm thither flying,-- Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? Through thee I'm hither flying, Thou wilt not list before In slumbers thou art lying: Sleep on! what wouldst thou more? 1803.* ----- LONGING. WHAT pulls at my heart so? What tells me to roam? What drags me and lures me From chamber and home? How round the cliffs gather The clouds high in air! I fain would go thither, I fain would be there! The sociable flight Of the ravens comes back; I mingle amongst them, And follow their track. Round wall and round mountain Together we fly; She tarries below there, I after her spy. Then onward she wanders, My flight I wing soon To the wood fill'd with bushes, A bird of sweet tune. She tarries and hearkens, And smiling, thinks she: "How sweetly he's singing! He's singing to me!" The heights are illum'd By the fast setting sun; The pensive fair maiden Looks thoughtfully on; She roams by the streamlet, O'er meadows she goes, And darker and darker The pathway fast grows. I rise on a sudden, A glimmering star; "What glitters above me, So near and so far?" And when thou with wonder Hast gazed on the light, I fall down before thee, Entranced by thy sight! 1803. ----- TO MIGNON. OVER vale and torrent far Rolls along the sun's bright car. Ah! he wakens in his course Mine, as thy deep-seated smart In the heart. Ev'ry morning with new force. Scarce avails night aught to me; E'en the visions that I see Come but in a mournful guise; And I feel this silent smart In my heart With creative pow'r arise. During many a beauteous year I have seen ships 'neath me steer, As they seek the shelt'ring bay; But, alas, each lasting smart In my heart Floats not with the stream away. I must wear a gala dress, Long stored up within my press, For to-day to feasts is given; None know with what bitter smart Is my heart Fearfully and madly riven. Secretly I weep each tear, Yet can cheerful e'en appear, With a face of healthy red; For if deadly were this silent smart In my heart, Ah, I then had long been dead! ----- THE MOUNTAIN CASTLE. THERE stands on yonder high mountain A castle built of yore, Where once lurked horse and horseman In rear of gate and of door. Now door and gate are in ashes, And all around is so still; And over the fallen ruins I clamber just as I will. Below once lay a cellar, With costly wines well stor'd; No more the glad maid with her pitcher Descends there to draw from the hoard. No longer the goblet she places Before the guests at the feast; The flask at the meal so hallow'd No longer she fills for the priest. No more for the eager squire The draught in the passage is pour'd; No more for the flying present Receives she the flying reward. For all the roof and the rafters, They all long since have been burn'd, And stairs and passage and chapel To rubbish and ruins are turn'd. Yet when with lute and with flagon, When day was smiling and bright, I've watch'd my mistress climbing To gain this perilous height, Then rapture joyous and radiant The silence so desolate brake, And all, as in days long vanish'd, Once more to enjoyment awoke; As if for guests of high station The largest rooms were prepared; As if from those times so precious A couple thither had fared; As if there stood in his chapel The priest in his sacred dress, And ask'd: "Would ye twain be united?" And we, with a smile, answer'd, "Yes!" And songs that breath'd a deep feeling, That touched the heart's innermost chord, The music-fraught mouth of sweet echo, Instead of the many, outpour'd. And when at eve all was hidden In silence unbroken and deep, The glowing sun then look'd upwards, And gazed on the summit so steep. And squire and maiden then glitter'd As bright and gay as a lord, She seized the time for her present, And he to give her reward. 1803.* ----- THE SPIRIT'S SALUTE. THE hero's noble shade stands high On yonder turret grey; And as the ship is sailing by, He speeds it on his way. "See with what strength these sinews thrill'd! This heart, how firm and wild! These bones, what knightly marrow fill'd! This cup, how bright it smil'd! "Half of my life I strove and fought, And half I calmly pass'd; And thou, oh ship with beings fraught, Sail safely to the last!" 1774. ----- TO A GOLDEN HEART THAT HE WORE ROUND HIS NECK. [Addressed, during the Swiss tour already mentioned, to a present Lily had given him, during the time of their happy connection, which was then about to be terminated for ever.] OH thou token loved of joys now perish'd That I still wear from my neck suspended, Art thou stronger than our spirit-bond so cherish'd? Or canst thou prolong love's days untimely ended? Lily, I fly from thee! I still am doom'd to range Thro' countries strange, Thro' distant vales and woods, link'd on to thee! Ah, Lily's heart could surely never fall So soon away from me! As when a bird bath broken from his thrall, And seeks the forest green, Proof of imprisonment he bears behind him, A morsel of the thread once used to bind him; The free-born bird of old no more is seen, For he another's prey bath been. 1775. ----- THE BLISS OF SORROW. NEVER dry, never dry, Tears that eternal love sheddeth! How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear, When only half-dried on the eye is the tear! Never dry, never dry, Tears that unhappy love sheddeth! 1789.* ----- THE WANDERER'S NIGHT-SONG. THOU who comest from on high, Who all woes and sorrows stillest, Who, for twofold misery, Hearts with twofold balsam fillest, Would this constant strife would cease! What are pain and rapture now? Blissful Peace, To my bosom hasten thou! 1789.* ----- THE SAME. [Written at night on the Kickelhahn, a hill in the forest of Ilmenau, on the walls of a little hermitage where Goethe composed the last act of his Iphigenia.] HUSH'D on the hill Is the breeze; Scarce by the zephyr The trees Softly are press'd; The woodbird's asleep on the bough. Wait, then, and thou Soon wilt find rest. 1783. ----- THE HUNTER'S EVEN-SONG. THE plain with still and wand'ring feet, And gun full-charged, I tread, And hov'ring see thine image sweet, Thine image dear, o'er head. In gentle silence thou dost fare Through field and valley dear; But doth my fleeting image ne'er To thy mind's eye appear? His image, who, by grief oppress'd, Roams through the world forlorn, And wanders on from east to west, Because from thee he's torn? When I would think of none but thee, Mine eyes the moon survey; A calm repose then steals o'er me, But how, 'twere hard to say. 1776,* ----- TO THE MOON. BUSH and vale thou fill'st again With thy misty ray, And my spirit's heavy chain Castest far away. Thou dost o'er my fields extend Thy sweet soothing eye, Watching like a gentle friend, O'er my destiny. Vanish'd days of bliss and woe Haunt me with their tone, Joy and grief in turns I know, As I stray alone. Stream beloved, flow on! flow on! Ne'er can I be gay! Thus have sport and kisses gone, Truth thus pass'd away. Once I seem'd the lord to be Of that prize so fair! Now, to our deep sorrow, we Can forget it ne'er. Murmur, stream, the vale along, Never cease thy sighs; Murmur, whisper to my song Answering melodies! When thou in the winter's night Overflow'st in wrath, Or in spring-time sparklest bright, As the buds shoot forth. He who from the world retires, Void of hate, is blest; Who a friend's true love inspires, Leaning on his breast! That which heedless man ne'er knew, Or ne'er thought aright, Roams the bosom's labyrinth through, Boldly into night. 1789.* ----- TO LINA. SHOULD these songs, love, as they fleet, Chance again to reach thy hand, At the piano take thy seat, Where thy friend was wont to stand! Sweep with finger bold the string, Then the book one moment see: But read not! do nought but sing! And each page thine own will be! Ah, what grief the song imparts With its letters, black on white, That, when breath'd by thee, our hearts Now can break and now delight! 1800.* ----- EVER AND EVERYWHERE. FAR explore the mountain hollow, High in air the clouds then follow! To each brook and vale the Muse Thousand times her call renews. Soon as a flow'ret blooms in spring, It wakens many a strain; And when Time spreads his fleeting wing, The seasons come again. 1820.* ----- PETITION. OH thou sweet maiden fair, Thou with the raven hair, Why to the window go? While gazing down below, Art standing vainly there? Oh, if thou stood'st for me, And lett'st the latch but fly, How happy should I be! How soon would I leap high! 1789.* ----- TO HIS COY ONE. SEEST thou yon smiling Orange? Upon the tree still hangs it; Already March bath vanish'd, And new-born flow'rs are shooting. I draw nigh to the tree then, And there I say: Oh Orange, Thou ripe and juicy Orange, Thou sweet and luscious Orange, I shake the tree, I shake it, Oh fall into my lap! 1789.* ----- NIGHT THOUGHTS. OH, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn, Ye by whom the sea-toss'd sailor's lighted, Who with radiant beams the heav'ns adorn, But by gods and men are unrequited: For ye love not,--ne'er have learnt to love! Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move, In the spacious sky your charms displaying, What far travels ye have hasten'd through, Since, within my loved one's arms delaying, I've forgotten you and midnight too! 1789.* ----- TO LIDA. THE only one whom, Lida, thou canst love, Thou claim'st, and rightly claim'st, for only thee; He too is wholly thine; since doomed to rove Far from thee, in life's turmoils nought I see Save a thin veil, through which thy form I view, As though in clouds; with kindly smile and true, It cheers me, like the stars eterne that gleam Across the northern-lights' far-flick'ring beam. 1789.* ----- PROXIMITY. I KNOW not, wherefore, dearest love, Thou often art so strange and coy When 'mongst man's busy haunts we move, Thy coldness puts to flight my joy. But soon as night and silence round us reign, I know thee by thy kisses sweet again! 1789.* ----- RECIPROCAL. MY mistress, where sits she? What is it that charms? The absent she's rocking, Held fast in her arms. In pretty cage prison'd She holds a bird still; Yet lets him fly from her, Whenever he will. He pecks at her finger, And pecks at her lips, And hovers and flutters, And round her he skips. Then hasten thou homeward, In fashion to be; If thou hast the maiden, She also hath thee. 1816. ----- ROLLICKING HANS. HALLO there! A glass! Ha! the draught's truly sweet! If for drink go my shoes, I shall still have my feet. A maiden and wine, With sweet music and song,-- I would they were mine, All life's journey along! If I depart from this sad sphere, And leave a will behind me here, A suit at law will be preferr'd, But as for thanks,--the deuce a word! So ere I die, I squander all, And that a proper will I call. HIS COMRADE. Hallo there! A glass! Ha! the draught's truly sweet If thou keepest thy shoes, Thou wilt then spare thy feet. A maiden and wine, With sweet music and song, On pavement, are thine, All life's journey along! ----- THE FREEBOOTER, No door has my house, No house has my door; And in and out ever I carry my store. No grate has my kitchen, No kitchen my grate; Yet roasts it and boils it Both early and late. My bed has no trestles, My trestles no bed; Yet merrier moments No mortal e'er led. My cellar is lofty, My barn is full deep, From top to the bottom,-- There lie I and sleep. And soon as I waken, All moves on its race; My place has no fixture, My fixture no place. 1827.* ----- JOY AND SORROW. As a fisher-boy I fared To the black rock in the sea, And, while false gifts I prepared. Listen'd and sang merrily, Down descended the decoy, Soon a fish attack'd the bait; One exultant shout of joy,-- And the fish was captured straight. Ah! on shore, and to the wood Past the cliffs, o'er stock and stone, One foot's traces I pursued, And the maiden was alone. Lips were silent, eyes downcast As a clasp-knife snaps the bait, With her snare she seized me fast, And the boy was captured straight. Heav'n knows who's the happy swain That she rambles with anew! I must dare the sea again, Spite of wind and weather too. When the great and little fish Wail and flounder in my net, Straight returns my eager wish In her arms to revel yet! 1815. ----- MARCH. THE snow-flakes fall in showers, The time is absent still, When all Spring's beauteous flowers, When all Spring's beauteous flowers Our hearts with joy shall fill. With lustre false and fleeting The sun's bright rays are thrown; The swallow's self is cheating: The swallow's self is cheating, And why? He comes alone! Can I e'er feel delighted Alone, though Spring is near? Yet when we are united, Yet when we are united, The Summer will be here. 1817. ----- APRIL. TELL me, eyes, what 'tis ye're seeking; For ye're saying something sweet, Fit the ravish'd ear to greet, Eloquently, softly speaking. Yet I see now why ye're roving; For behind those eyes so bright, To itself abandon'd quite, Lies a bosom, truthful, loving,-- One that it must fill with pleasure 'Mongst so many, dull and blind, One true look at length to find, That its worth can rightly treasure. Whilst I'm lost in studying ever To explain these cyphers duly,-- To unravel my looks truly In return be your endeavour! 1820. ----- MAY. LIGHT and silv'ry cloudlets hover In the air, as yet scarce warm; Mild, with glimmer soft tinged over, Peeps the sun through fragrant balm. Gently rolls and heaves the ocean As its waves the bank o'erflow. And with ever restless motion Moves the verdure to and fro, Mirror'd brightly far below. What is now the foliage moving? Air is still, and hush'd the breeze, Sultriness, this fullness loving, Through the thicket, from the trees. Now the eye at once gleams brightly, See! the infant band with mirth Moves and dances nimbly, lightly, As the morning gave it birth, Flutt'ring two and two o'er earth. * * * * 1816. ----- JUNE. SHE behind yon mountain lives, Who my love's sweet guerdon gives. Tell me, mount, how this can be! Very glass thou seem'st to me, And I seem to be close by, For I see her drawing nigh; Now, because I'm absent, sad, Now, because she sees me, glad! Soon between us rise to sight Valleys cool, with bushes light, Streams and meadows; next appear Mills and wheels, the surest token That a level spot is near, Plains far-stretching and unbroken. And so onwards, onwards roam, To my garden and my home! But how comes it then to pass? All this gives no joy, alas!-- I was ravish'd by her sight, By her eyes so fair and bright, By her footstep soft and light. How her peerless charms I praised, When from head to foot I gazed! I am here, she's far away,-- I am gone, with her to stay. If on rugged hills she wander, If she haste the vale along, Pinions seem to flutter yonder, And the air is fill'd with song; With the glow of youth still playing, Joyous vigour in each limb, One in silence is delaying, She alone 'tis blesses him. Love, thou art too fair, I ween! Fairer I have never seen! From the heart full easily Blooming flowers are cull'd by thee. If I think: "Oh, were it so," Bone and marrow seen to glow! If rewarded by her love, Can I greater rapture prove? And still fairer is the bride, When in me she will confide, When she speaks and lets me know All her tale of joy and woe. All her lifetime's history Now is fully known to me. Who in child or woman e'er Soul and body found so fair? 1815. ----- NEXT YEAR'S SPRING. THE bed of flowers Loosens amain, The beauteous snowdrops Droop o'er the plain. The crocus opens Its glowing bud, Like emeralds others, Others, like blood. With saucy gesture Primroses flare, And roguish violets, Hidden with care; And whatsoever There stirs and strives, The Spring's contented, If works and thrives. 'Mongst all the blossoms That fairest are, My sweetheart's sweetness Is sweetest far; Upon me ever Her glances light, My song they waken, My words make bright, An ever open And blooming mind, In sport, unsullied, In earnest, kind. Though roses and lilies By Summer are brought, Against my sweetheart Prevails he nought. 1816. ----- AT MIDNIGHT HOUR. [Goethe relates that a remarkable situation he was in one bright moonlight night led to the composition of this sweet song, which was "the dearer to him because he could not say whence it came and whither it would."] AT midnight hour I went, not willingly, A little, little boy, yon churchyard past, To Father Vicar's house; the stars on high On all around their beauteous radiance cast, At midnight hour. And when, in journeying o'er the path of life, My love I follow'd, as she onward moved, With stars and northern lights o'er head in strife, Going and coming, perfect bliss I proved At midnight hour. Until at length the full moon, lustre-fraught, Burst thro' the gloom wherein she was enshrined; And then the willing, active, rapid thought Around the past, as round the future twined, At midnight hour. 1818. ----- TO THE RISING FULL MOON. Dornburg, 25th August, 1828. WILT thou suddenly enshroud thee, Who this moment wert so nigh? Heavy rising masses cloud thee, Thou art hidden from mine eye. Yet my sadness thou well knowest, Gleaming sweetly as a star! That I'm loved, 'tis thou that showest, Though my loved one may be far. Upward mount then! clearer, milder, Robed in splendour far more bright! Though my heart with grief throbs wilder, Fraught with rapture is the night! 1828. ----- THE BRIDEGROOM.* (Not in the English sense of the word, but the German, where it has the meaning of betrothed.) I SLEPT,--'twas midnight,--in my bosom woke, As though 'twere day, my love-o'erflowing heart; To me it seemed like night, when day first broke; What is't to me, whate'er it may impart? She was away; the world's unceasing strife For her alone I suffer'd through the heat Of sultry day; oh, what refreshing life At cooling eve!--my guerdon was complete. The sun now set, and wand'ring hand in hand, His last and blissful look we greeted then; While spake our eyes, as they each other scann'd: "From the far east, let's trust, he'll come again!" At midnight!--the bright stars, in vision blest, Guide to the threshold where she slumbers calm: Oh be it mine, there too at length to rest,-- Yet howsoe'er this prove, life's full of charm! 1828. ----- SUCH, SUCH IS HE WHO PLEASETH ME. FLY, dearest, fly! He is not nigh! He who found thee one fair morn in Spring In the wood where thou thy flight didst wing. Fly, dearest, fly! He is not nigh! Never rests the foot of evil spy. Hark! flutes' sweet strains and love's refrains Reach the loved one, borne there by the wind, In the soft heart open doors they find. Hark! flutes' sweet strains and love's refrains, Hark!--yet blissful love their echo pains. Erect his head, and firm his tread, Raven hair around his smooth brow strays, On his cheeks a Spring eternal plays. Erect his head, and firm his tread, And by grace his ev'ry step is led. Happy his breast, with pureness bless'd, And the dark eyes 'neath his eyebrows placed, With full many a beauteous line are graced. Happy his breast, with pureness bless'd, Soon as seen, thy love must be confess'd. His mouth is red--its power I dread, On his lips morn's fragrant incense lies, Round his lips the cooling Zephyr sighs. His mouth is red--its power I dread, With one glance from him, all sorrow's fled. His blood is true, his heart bold too, In his soft arms, strength, protection, dwells And his face with noble pity swells. His blood is true, his heart bold too, Blest the one whom those dear arms may woo! 1816.. ----- SICILIAN SONG. YE black and roguish eyes, If ye command. Each house in ruins lies, No town can stand. And shall my bosom's chain,-- This plaster wall,Ä To think one moment, deign,-- Shall ii not fall? 1811. ----- SWISS SONG, Up in th' mountain I was a-sitting, With the bird there As my guest, Blithely singing, Blithely springing, And building His nest. In the garden I was a-standing, And the bee there Saw as well, Buzzing, humming, Going, coming, And building His cell. O'er the meadow I was a-going, And there saw the Butterflies, Sipping, dancing, Flying, glancing, And charming The eyes. And then came my Dear Hansel, And I show'd them With glee, Sipping, quaffing, And he, laughing, Sweet kisses Gave me. 1811. ----- FINNISH SONG. IF the loved one, the well-known one, Should return as he departed, On his lips would ring my kisses, Though the wolf's blood might have dyed them; And a hearty grasp I'd give him, Though his finger-ends were serpents. Wind! Oh, if thou hadst but reason, Word for word in turns thou'dst carry, E'en though some perchance might perish 'Tween two lovers so far distant. All choice morsels I'd dispense with, Table-flesh of priests neglect too, Sooner than renounce my lover, Whom, in Summer having vanquish'd, I in Winter tamed still longer. 1810. ----- GIPSY SONG. IN the drizzling mist, with the snow high-pil'd, In the Winter night, in the forest wild, I heard the wolves with their ravenous howl, I heard the screaming note of the owl: Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! I shot, one day, a cat in a ditch-- The dear black cat of Anna the witch; Upon me, at night, seven were-wolves came down, Seven women they were, from out of the town. Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! I knew them all; ay, I knew them straight; First, Anna, then Ursula, Eve, and Kate, And Barbara, Lizzy, and Bet as well; And forming a ring, they began to yell: Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! Then call'd I their names with angry threat: "What wouldst thou, Anna? What wouldst thou, Bet?" At hearing my voice, themselves they shook, And howling and yelling, to flight they took. Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! 1772. ----- THE DESTRUCTION OF MAGDEBURG. [For a fine account of the fearful sack of Magdeburg, by Tilly, in the year 1613, see SCHILLER's History of the Thirty Years' War.] OH, Magdeberg the town! Fair maids thy beauty crown, Thy charms fair maids and matrons crown; Oh, Magdeburg the town! Where all so blooming stands, Advance fierce Tilly's bands; O'er gardens and o'er well--till'd lands Advance fierce Tilly's bands. Now Tilly's at the gate. Our homes who'll liberate? Go, loved one, hasten to the gate, And dare the combat straight! There is no need as yet, However fierce his threat; Thy rosy cheeks I'll kiss, sweet pet! There is no need as yet. My longing makes me pale. Oh, what can wealth avail? E'en now thy father may be pale. Thou mak'st my courage fail. Oh, mother, give me bread! Is then my father dead? Oh, mother, one small crust of bread! Oh, what misfortune dread! Thy father, dead lies he, The trembling townsmen flee, Adown the street the blood runs free; Oh, whither shall we flee? The churches ruined lie, The houses burn on high, The roofs they smoke, the flames out fly, Into the street then hie! No safety there they meet! The soldiers fill the Street, With fire and sword the wreck complete: No safety there they meet! Down falls the houses' line, Where now is thine or mine? That bundle yonder is not thine, Thou flying maiden mine! The women sorrow sore. The maidens far, far more. The living are no virgins more; Thus Tilly's troops make war! ----- FAMILIAR SONGS. ------ What we sing in company Soon from heart to heart will fly. ----- THE Gesellige Lieder, which I have angicisled as above, as several of them cannot be called convivial songs, are separated by Goethe from his other songs, and I have adhered to the same arrangement. The Ergo bibamus is a well-known drinking song in Germany, where it enjoys vast popularity. ON THE NEW YEAR. [Composed for a merry party that used to meet, in 1802, at Goethe's house.] FATE now allows us, 'Twixt the departing And the upstarting, Happy to be; And at the call of Memory cherish'd, Future and perish'd Moments we see. Seasons of anguish,-- Ah, they must ever Truth from woe sever, Love and joy part; Days still more worthy Soon will unite us, Fairer songs light us, Strength'ning the heart. We, thus united, Think of, with gladness, Rapture and sadness, Sorrow now flies. Oh, how mysterious Fortune's direction! Old the connection, New-born the prize! Thank, for this, Fortune, Wavering blindly! Thank all that kindly Fate may bestow! Revel in change's Impulses clearer, Love far sincerer, More heartfelt glow! Over the old one, Wrinkles collected, Sad and dejected, Others may view; But, on us gently Shineth a true one, And to the new one We, too, are new. As a fond couple 'Midst the dance veering, First disappearing, Then reappear, So let affection Guide thro' life's mazy Pathways so hazy Into the year! 1802. ----- ANNIVERSARY SONG. [This little song describes the different members of the party just spoken of.] WHY pacest thou, my neighbour fair, The garden all alone? If house and land thou seek'st to guard, I'd thee as mistress own. My brother sought the cellar-maid, And suffered her no rest; She gave him a refreshing draught, A kiss, too, she impress'd. My cousin is a prudent wight, The cook's by him ador'd; He turns the spit round ceaselessly, To gain love's sweet reward. We six together then began A banquet to consume, When lo! a fourth pair singing came, And danced into the room. Welcome were they,--and welcome too Was a fifth jovial pair. Brimful of news, and stored with tales And jests both new and rare. For riddles, spirit, raillery, And wit, a place remain'd; A sixth pair then our circle join'd, And so that prize was gain'd. And yet to make us truly blest, One miss'd we, and full sore; A true and tender couple came,-- We needed them no more. The social banquet now goes on, Unchequer'd by alloy; The sacred double-numbers then Let us at once enjoy! 1802. ----- THE SPRING ORACLE. OH prophetic bird so bright, Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight! In the fairest time of year, Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear What a youthful pair would pray, Do thou call, if hope they may: Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo. Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo! Hearest thou? A loving pair Fain would to the altar fare; Yes! a pair in happy youth, Full of virtue, full of truth. Is the hour not fix'd by fate? Say, how long must they still wait? Hark! cuck-oo! hark! cuck-oo! Silent yet! for shame, cuck-oo! 'Tis not our fault, certainly! Only two years patient be! But if we ourselves please here, Will pa-pa-papas appear? Know that thou'lt more kindness do us, More thou'lt prophesy unto us. One! cuck-oo! Two! cuck-oo! Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo! If we've calculated clearly, We have half a dozen nearly. If good promises we'll give, Wilt thou say how long we'II live? Truly, we'll confess to thee, We'd prolong it willingly. Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo, Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo! Life is one continued feast-- (If we keep no score, at least). If now we together dwell, Will true love remain as well? For if that should e'er decay, Happiness would pass away. Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo, Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo! 1803.* (Gracefully in infinitum.) ----- THE HAPPY COUPLE. AFTER these vernal rains That we so warmly sought, Dear wife, see how our plains With blessings sweet are fraught! We cast our distant gaze Far in the misty blue; Here gentle love still strays, Here dwells still rapture true. Thou seest whither go Yon pair of pigeons white, Where swelling violets blow Round sunny foliage bright. 'Twas there we gather'd first A nosegay as we roved; There into flame first burst The passion that we proved. Yet when, with plighted troth, The priest beheld us fare Home from the altar both, With many a youthful pair,-- Then other moons had birth, And many a beauteous sun, Then we had gain'd the earth Whereon life's race to run. A hundred thousand fold The mighty bond was seal'd; In woods, on mountains cold, In bushes, in the field, Within the wall, in caves, And on the craggy height, And love, e'en o'er the waves, Bore in his tube the light. Contented we remain'd, We deem'd ourselves a pair; 'Twas otherwise ordain'd, For, lo! a third was there; A fourth, fifth, sixth appear'd, And sat around our board; And now the plants we've rear'd High o'er our heads have soar'd! How fair and pleasant looks, On yonder beauteous spot, Embraced by poplar-brooks, The newly-finish'd cot! Who is it there that sits In that glad home above? Is't not our darling Fritz With his own darling love? Beside yon precipice, Whence pent-up waters steal, And leaving the abyss, Fall foaming through the wheel, Though people often tell Of millers' wives so fair, Yet none can e'er excel Our dearest daughter there! Yet where the thick-set green Stands round yon church and sad, Where the old fir-tree's seen Alone tow'rd heaven to nod,-- 'Tis there the ashes lie Of our untimely dead; From earth our gaze on high By their blest memory's led. See how yon hill is bright With billowy-waving arms! The force returns, whose might Has vanquished war's alarms. Who proudly hastens here With wreath-encircled brow? 'Tis like our child so dear Thus Charles comes homeward now. That dearest honour'd guest Is welcom'd by the bride; She makes the true one blest, At the glad festal tide. And ev'ry one makes haste To join the dance with glee; While thou with wreaths hast graced The youngest children three. To sound of flute and horn The time appears renew'd, When we, in love's young morn, In the glad dance upstood; And perfect bliss I know Ere the year's course is run, For to the font we go With grandson and with son! 1803.* ----- SONG OF FELLOWSHIP. [Written and sung in honour of the birthday of the Pastor Ewald at the time of Goethe's happy connection with Lily.] IN ev'ry hour of joy That love and wine prolong, The moments we'll employ To carol forth this song! We're gathered in His name, Whose power hath brought us here; He kindled first our flame, He bids it burn more clear. Then gladly glow to-night, And let our hearts combine! Up! quaff with fresh delight This glass of sparkling wine! Up! hail the joyous hour, And let your kiss be true; With each new bond of power The old becomes the new! Who in our circle lives, And is not happy there? True liberty it gives, And brother's love so fair. Thus heart and heart through life With mutual love are fill'd; And by no causeless strife Our union e'er is chill'd. Our hopes a God has crown'd With life-discernment free, And all we view around, Renews our ecstasy. Ne'er by caprice oppress'd, Our bliss is ne'er destroy'd; More freely throbs our breast, By fancies ne'er alloy'd. Where'er our foot we set, The more life's path extends, And brighter, brighter yet Our gaze on high ascends. We know no grief or pain, Though all things fall and rise; Long may we thus remain! Eternal be our ties! 1775. ----- CONSTANCY IN CHANGE. COULD this early bliss but rest Constant for one single hour! But e'en now the humid West Scatters many a vernal shower. Should the verdure give me joy? 'Tis to it I owe the shade; Soon will storms its bloom destroy, Soon will Autumn bid it fade. Eagerly thy portion seize, If thou wouldst possess the fruit! Fast begin to ripen these, And the rest already shoot. With each heavy storm of rain Change comes o'er thy valley fair; Once, alas! but not again Can the same stream hold thee e'er. And thyself, what erst at least Firm as rocks appear'd to rise, Walls and palaces thou seest But with ever-changing eyes. Fled for ever now the lip That with kisses used to glow, And the foot, that used to skip O'er the mountain, like the roe. And the hand, so true and warm, Ever raised in charity, And the cunning-fashion'd form,-- All are now changed utterly. And what used to bear thy name, When upon yon spot it stood, Like a rolling billow came, Hast'ning on to join the flood. Be then the beginning found With the end in unison, Swifter than the forms around Are themselves now fleeting on! Thank the merit in thy breast, Thank the mould within thy heart, That the Muses' favour blest Ne'er will perish, ne'er depart. 1803.* ----- TABLE SONG. [Composed for the merry party already mentioned, on the occasion of the departure for France of the hereditary prince, who was one of the number, and who is especially alluded to in the 3rd verse.] O'ER me--how I cannot say,-- Heav'nly rapture's growing. Will it help to guide my way To yon stars all-glowing? Yet that here I'd sooner be, To assert I'm able, Where, with wine and harmony, I may thump the table. Wonder not, my dearest friends, What 'tis gives me pleasure; For of all that earth e'er lends, 'Tis the sweetest treasure. Therefore solemnly I swear, With no reservation, That maliciously I'll ne'er Leave my present station. Now that here we're gather'd round, Chasing cares and slumbers, Let, methought, the goblet sound To the bard's glad numbers! Many a hundred mile away, Go those we love dearly; Therefore let us here to-day Make the glass ring clearly! Here's His health, through Whom we live! I that faith inherit. To our king the next toast give, Honour is his merit, 'Gainst each in-- and outward foe He's our rock and tower. Of his maintenance thinks he though, More that grows his power. Next to her good health I drink, Who has stirr'd my passion; Of his mistress let each think, Think in knightly fashion. If the beauteous maid but see Whom 'tis I now call so, Let her smiling nod to me: "Here's my love's health also!" To those friends,--the two or three,-- Be our next toast given, In whose presence revel we, In the silent even,-- Who the gloomy mist so cold Scatter gently, lightly; To those friends, then, new or old, Let the toast ring brightly. Broader now the stream rolls on, With its waves more swelling, While in higher, nobler tone, Comrades, we are dwelling,-- We who with collected might, Bravely cling together, Both in fortune's sunshine bright, And in stormy weather. Just as we are gather'd thus, Others are collected; On them, therefore, as on us, Be Fate's smile directed! From the springhead to the sea, Many a mill's revolving, And the world's prosperity Is the task I'm solving. 1802. ----- WONT AND DONE. I HAVE loved; for the first time with passion I rave! I then was the servant, but now am the slave; I then was the servant of all: By this creature so charming I now am fast bound, To love and love's guerdon she turns all around, And her my sole mistress I call. l've had faith; for the first time my faith is now strong! And though matters go strangely, though matters go wrong, To the ranks of the faithful I'm true: Though ofttimes 'twas dark and though ofttimes 'twas drear, In the pressure of need, and when danger was near, Yet the dawning of light I now view. I have eaten; but ne'er have thus relish'd my food! For when glad are the senses, and joyous the blood, At table all else is effaced As for youth, it but swallows, then whistles an air; As for me, to a jovial resort I'd repair, Where to eat, and enjoy what I taste. I have drunk; but have never thus relish'd the bowl! For wine makes us lords, and enlivens the soul, And loosens the trembling slave's tongue. Let's not seek to spare then the heart-stirring drink, For though in the barrel the old wine may sink, In its place will fast mellow the young. I have danced, and to dancing am pledged by a vow! Though no caper or waltz may be raved about now, In a dance that's becoming, whirl round. And he who a nosegay of flowers has dress'd, And cares not for one any more than the rest, With a garland of mirth is aye crown'd. Then once more be merry, and banish all woes! For he who but gathers the blossoming rose. By its thorns will be tickled alone. To-day still, as yesterday, glimmers the star; Take care from all heads that hang down to keep far, And make but the future thine own. 1813. ----- GENERAL CONFESSION. In this noble ring to-day Let my warning shame ye! Listen to my solemn voice,-- Seldom does it name ye. Many a thing have ye intended, Many a thing have badly ended, And now I must blame ye. At some moment in our lives We must all repent us! So confess, with pious trust, All your sins momentous! Error's crooked pathways shunning. Let us, on the straight road running, Honestly content us! Yes! we've oft, when waking, dream'd, Let's confess it rightly; Left undrain'd the brimming cup, When it sparkled brightly; Many a shepherd's-hour's soft blisses, Many a dear mouth's flying kisses We've neglected lightly. Mute and silent have we sat, Whilst the blockheads prated, And above e'en song divine Have their babblings rated; To account we've even call'd us For the moments that enthrall'd us, With enjoyment freighted. If thou'lt absolution grant To thy true ones ever, We, to execute thy will, Ceaseless will endeavour, From half-measures strive to wean us, Wholly, fairly, well demean us, Resting, flagging never. At all blockheads we'll at once Let our laugh ring clearly, And the pearly-foaming wine Never sip at merely. Ne'er with eye alone give kisses, But with boldness suck in blisses From those lips loved dearly. 1803.* ----- COPTIC SONG. LEAVE we the pedants to quarrel and strive, Rigid and cautious the teachers to be! All of the wisest men e'er seen alive Smile, nod, and join in the chorus with me: "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" Merlin the old, from his glittering grave, When I, a stripling, once spoke to him,--gave Just the same answer as that I've preferr'd; "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" And on the Indian breeze as it booms, And in the depths of Egyptian tombs, Only the same holy saying I've heard: "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" 1789.* ----- ANOTHER. Go! obedient to my call, Turn to profit thy young days, Wiser make betimes thy breast In Fate's balance as it sways, Seldom is the cock at rest; Thou must either mount, or fall, Thou must either rule and win, Or submissively give in, Triumph, or else yield to clamour: Be the anvil or the hammer. 1789. ----- VANITAS! VANITATUM VANITAS! MY trust in nothing now is placed, Hurrah! So in the world true joy I taste, Hurrah! Then he who would be a comrade of mine Must rattle his glass, and in chorus combine, Over these dregs of wine. I placed my trust in gold and wealth, Hurrah! But then I lost all joy and health, Lack-a-day! Both here and there the money roll'd, And when I had it here, behold, From there had fled the gold! I placed my trust in women next, Hurrah! But there in truth was sorely vex'd, Lack-a-day! The False another portion sought, The True with tediousness were fraught, The Best could not be bought. My trust in travels then I placed, Hurrah! And left my native land in haste. Lack-a-day! But not a single thing seem'd good, The beds were bad, and strange the food, And I not understood. I placed my trust in rank and fame, Hurrah! Another put me straight to shame, Lack-a-day! And as I had been prominent, All scowl'd upon me as I went, I found not one content. I placed my trust in war and fight, Hurrah! We gain'd full many a triumph bright, Hurrah! Into the foeman's land we cross'd, We put our friends to equal cost, And there a leg I lost. My trust is placed in nothing now, Hurrah! At my command the world must bow, Hurrah! And as we've ended feast and strain, The cup we'll to the bottom drain; No dregs must there remain! 1806. ----- FORTUNE OF WAR. NOUGHT more accursed in war I know Than getting off scot-free; Inured to danger, on we go In constant victory; We first unpack, then pack again, With only this reward, That when we're marching, we complain, And when in camp, are bor'd. The time for billeting comes next,-- The peasant curses it; Each nobleman is sorely vex'd, 'Tis hated by the cit. Be civil, bad though be thy food, The clowns politely treat; If to our hosts we're ever rude, Jail-bread we're forced to eat. And when the cannons growl around, And small arms rattle clear, And trumpet, trot, and drum resound, We merry all appear; And as it in the fight may chance, We yield, then charge amain, And now retire, and now advance, And yet a cross ne'er gain. At length there comes a musket-ball, And hits the leg, please Heaven; And then our troubles vanish all, For to the town we're driven, (Well cover'd by the victor's force,) Where we in wrath first came,-- The women, frightened then, of course, Are loving now and tame. Cellar and heart are open'd wide, The cook's allow'd no rest; While beds with softest down supplied Are by our members press'd. The nimble lads upon us wait, No sleep the hostess takes Her shift is torn in pieces straight,-- What wondrous lint it makes! If one has tended carefully The hero's wounded limb, Her neighbour cannot rest, for she Has also tended him. A third arrives in equal haste, At length they all are there, And in the middle he is placed Of the whole band so fair! On good authority the king Hears how we love the fight, And bids them cross and ribbon bring, Our coat and breast to dight. Say if a better fate can e'er A son of Mars pursue! 'Midst tears at length we go from there, Beloved and honour'd too. 1814. ----- OPEN TABLE. MANY a guest I'd see to-day, Met to taste my dishes! Food in plenty is prepar'd, Birds, and game, and fishes. Invitations all have had, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Pretty girls I hope to see, Dear and guileless misses, Ignorant how sweet it is Giving tender kisses. Invitations all have had, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Women also I expect, Loving tow'rd their spouses, Whose rude grumbling in their breasts Greater love but rouses. Invitations they've had too, All proposed attending! Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? I've too ask'd young gentlemen, Who are far from haughty, And whose purses are well-stock'd, Well-behaved, not haughty. These especially I ask'd, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Men I summon'd with respect, Who their own wives treasure; Who in ogling other Fair Never take a pleasure. To my greetings they replied, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Then to make our joy complete, Poets I invited, Who love other's songs far more Than what they've indited. All acceded to my wish, All proposed attending. Johnny, go and look around! Are they hither wending? Not a single one appears, None seem this way posting. All the soup boils fast away, Joints are over-roasting. Ah, I fear that we have been Rather too unbending! Johnny, tell me what you think! None are hither wending. Johnny, run and quickly bring Other guests to me now! Each arriving as he is-- That's the plan, I see now. In the town at once 'tis known, Every one's commending. Johnny, open all the doors: All are hither wending! 1815.* ----- THE RECKONING. LEADER. LET no cares now hover o'er us Let the wine unsparing run! Wilt thou swell our merry chorus? Hast thou all thy duty done? SOLO. Two young folks--the thing is curious-- Loved each other; yesterday Both quite mild, to-day quite furious, Next day, quite the deuce to pay! If her neck she there was stooping, He must here needs pull his hair. I revived their spirits drooping, And they're now a happy pair. CHORUS. Surely we for wine may languish! Let the bumper then go round! For all sighs and groans of anguish Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd. SOLO. Why, young orphan, all this wailing? "Would to heaven that I were dead! For my guardian's craft prevailing Soon will make me beg my bread." Knowing well the rascal genus, Into court I dragg'd the knave; Fair the judges were between us, And the maiden's wealth did save. CHORUS. Surely we for wine may languish! Let the bumper then go round! For all sighs and groans of anguish Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd. SOLO. To a little fellow, quiet, Unpretending and subdued, Has a big clown, running riot, Been to-day extremely rude. I bethought me of my duty, And my courage swell'd apace, So I spoil'd the rascal's beauty, Slashing him across the face. CHORUS. Surely we for wine may languish! Let the bumper then go round! For all sighs and groans of anguish Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd. SOLO. Brief must be my explanation, For I really have done nought. Free from trouble and vexation, I a landlord's business bought. There I've done, with all due ardour, All that duty order'd me; Each one ask'd me for the larder, And there was no scarcity. CHORUS. Surely we for wine may languish! Let the bumper then go round! For all sighs and groans of anguish Thou to-day in joy hast drown'd. LEADER. Each should thus make proclamation Of what he did well to-day! That's the match whose conflagration Should inflame our tuneful lay. Let it be our precept ever To admit no waverer here! For to act the good endeavour, None but rascals meek appear. CHORUS. Surely we for wine may languish! Let the bumper then go round! For all sighs and groans of anguish We have now in rapture drown'd. TRIO. Let each merry minstrel enter, He's right welcome to our hall! 'Tis but with the selfÄtormentor That we are not liberal; For we fear that his caprices, That his eye-brows dark and sad, That his grief that never ceases Hide an empty heart, or bad. CHORUS. No one now for wine shall languish! Here no minstrel shall be found, Who all sighs and groans of anguish, Has not first in rapture drown'd! 1810. ----- ERGO BIBAMUS! FOR a praiseworthy object we're now gather'd here, So, brethren, sing: ERGO BIBAMUS! Tho' talk may be hush'd, yet the glasses ring clear, Remember then: ERGO BIBAMUS! In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word, With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirr'd, And an echo the festal hall filling is heard, A glorious ERGO BIBAMUS! I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare, And bethought me of: ERGO BIBAMUS; So I gently approach'd, and she let me stand there, While I help'd myself, thinking: BIBAMUS! And when she's appeased, and will clasp you and kiss, Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss, Take refuge, till sound is some worthier bliss, In the comforting ERGO BIBAMUS! I am call'd by my fate far away from each friend; Ye loved ones, then: ERGO BIBAMUS! With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend. So double our ERGO BIBAMUS! Whate'er to his treasures the niggard may add, Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had, For gladness lends over its charms to the glad, So, brethren, sing; ERGO BIBAMUS! And what shall we say of to-day as it flies? I thought but of: ERGO BIBAMUS 'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise, So again and again sing: BIBAMUS! For joy through a wide-open portal it guides, Bright glitter the clouds, as the curtain divides, An a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides, While we thunder our: ERGO BIBAMUS! 1810. ----- EPIPHANIAS. THE three holy kings with their star's bright ray,-- They eat and they drink, but had rather not pay; They like to eat and drink away, They eat and drink, but had rather not pay. The three holy kings have all come here, In number not four, but three they appear; And if a fourth join'd the other three, Increased by one their number would be. The first am I,--the fair and the white, I ought to be seen when the sun shines bright! But, alas! with all my spices and myrrh, No girl now likes me,--I please not her. The next am I,--the brown and the long, Known well to women, known well to song. Instead of spices, 'tis gold I bear, And so I'm welcome everywhere. The last am I,--the black and small, And fain would be right merry withal. I like to eat and to drink full measure, I eat and drink, and give thanks with pleasure. The three holy kings are friendly and mild, They seek the Mother, and seek the Child; The pious Joseph is sitting by, The ox and the ass on their litter lie. We're bringing gold, we're bringing myrrh, The women incense always prefer; And if we have wine of a worthy growth, We three to drink like six are not loth. As here we see fair lads and lasses, But not a sign of oxen or asses, We know that we have gone astray And so go further on our way. ----- BALLADS. ----- Poet's art is ever able To endow with truth mere fable. ---- MIGNON. [This universally known poem is also to be found in Wilhelm Meister.] KNOW'ST thou the land where the fair citron blows, Where the bright orange midst the foliage glows, Where soft winds greet us from the azure skies, Where silent myrtles, stately laurels rise, Know'st thou it well? 'Tis there, 'tis there, That I with thee, beloved one, would repair. Know'st thou the house? On columns rests its pile, Its halls are gleaming, and its chambers smile, And marble statues stand and gaze on me: "Poor child! what sorrow hath befallen thee?" Know'st thou it well? 'Tis there, 'tis there, That I with thee, protector, would repair! Know'st thou the mountain, and its cloudy bridge? The mule can scarcely find the misty ridge; In caverns dwells the dragon's olden brood, The frowning crag obstructs the raging flood. Know'st thou it well? 'Tis there, 'tis there, Our path lies--Father--thither, oh repair! 1795.* ----- THE MINSTREL. [This fine poem is introduced in the second book of Wilhelm Meister.] "WHAT tuneful strains salute mine ear Without the castle walls? Oh, let the song re-echo here, Within our festal halls!" Thus spake the king, the page out-hied; The boy return'd; the monarch cried: "Admit the old man yonder!" "All hail, ye noble lords to-night! All hail, ye beauteous dames! Star placed by star! What heavenly sight! Whoe'er can tell their names? Within this glittering hall sublime, Be closed, mine eyes! 'tis not the time For me to feast my wonder." The minstrel straightway closed his eyes, And woke a thrilling tone; The knights look'd on in knightly guise, Fair looks tow'rd earth were thrown. The monarch, ravish'd by the strain, Bade them bring forth a golden chain, To be his numbers' guerdon. "The golden chain give not to me, But give the chain to those In whose bold face we shiver'd see The lances of our foes. Or give it to thy chancellor there; With other burdens he may bear This one more golden burden. "I sing, like birds of blithesome note, That in the branches dwell; The song that rises from the throat Repays the minstrel well. One boon I'd crave, if not too bold-- One bumper in a cup of gold Be as my guerdon given." The bowl he raised, the bowl he quaff'd: "Oh drink, with solace fraught! Oh, house thrice-blest, where such a draught A trifling gift is thought! When Fortune smiles, remember me, And as I thank you heartily, As warmly thank ye Heaven!" 1795.* ----- BALLAD OF THE BANISHED AND RETURNING COUNT. [Goethe began to write an opera called Lowenstuhl, founded upon the old tradition which forms the subject of this Ballad, but he never carried out his design.] OH, enter old minstrel, thou time-honour'd one! We children are here in the hall all alone, The portals we straightway will bar. Our mother is praying, our father is gone To the forest, on wolves to make war. Oh sing us a ballad, the tale then repeat, 'Till brother and I learn it right; We long have been hoping a minstrel to meet, For children hear tales with delight. "At midnight, when darkness its fearful veil weaves, His lofty and stately old castle he leaves, But first he has buried his wealth. What figure is that in his arms one perceives, As the Count quits the gateway by stealth? O'er what is his mantle so hastily thrown? What bears he along in his flight? A daughter it is, and she gently sleeps on"-- The children they hear with delight. "The morning soon glimmers. the world is so wide, In valleys and forests a home is supplied, The bard in each village is cheer'd. Thus lives he and wanders, while years onward glide, And longer still waxes his beard; But the maiden so fair in his arms grows amain, 'Neath her star all-protecting and bright, Secured in the mantle from wind and from rain--" The children they hear with delight. "And year upon year with swift footstep now steals, The mantle it fades, many rents it reveals, The maiden no more it can hold. The father he sees her, what rapture he feels! His joy cannot now be controll'd. How worthy she seems of the race whence she springs, How noble and fair to the sight! What wealth to her dearly-loved father she brings!"-- The children they hear with delight. "Then comes there a princely knight galloping by, She stretches her hand out, as soon as he's nigh, But alms he refuses to give. He seizes her hand, with a smile in his eye: 'Thou art mine!' he exclaims, 'while I live!' 'When thou know'st,' cries the old man, 'the treasure that's there, A princess thou'lt make her of right; Betroth'd be she now, on this spot green and fair--'" The children they hear with delight. "So she's bless'd by the priest on the hallowed place, And she goes with a smiling but sorrowful face, From her father she fain would not part. The old man still wanders with ne'er-changing pace, He covers with joy his sad heart. So I think of my daughter, as years pass away, And my grandchildren far from my sight; I bless them by night, and I bless them by day"-- The children they hear with delight. He blesses the children: a knocking they hear, The father it is! They spring forward in fear, The old man they cannot conceal-- "Thou beggar, wouldst lure, then, my children so dear? Straight seize him, ye vassals of steel! To the dungeon most deep, with the fool-hardy knave!" The mother from far hears the fight; She hastens with flatt'ring entreaty to crave-- The children they hear with delight. The vassals they suffer the Bard to stand there, And mother and children implore him to spare, The proud prince would stifle his ire, 'Till driven to fury at hearing their prayer, His smouldering anger takes fire: "Thou pitiful race! Oh, thou beggarly crew! Eclipsing my star, once so bright! Ye'll bring me destruction, ye sorely shall rue!" The children they hear with affright. The old man still stands there with dignified mien, The vassals of steel quake before him, I ween, The Count's fury increases in power; "My wedded existence a curse long has been, And these are the fruits from that flower! 'Tis ever denied, and the saying is true, That to wed with the base-born is right; The beggar has borne me a beggarly crew,--" The children they hear with affright. "If the husband, the father, thus treats you with scorn, If the holiest bonds by him rashly are torn, Then come to your father--to me! The beggar may gladden life's pathway forlorn, Though aged and weak he may be. This castle is mine! thou hast made it thy prey, Thy people 'twas put me to flight; The tokens I bear will confirm what I say"-- The children they hear with delight. "The king who erst govern'd returneth again, And restores to the Faithful the goods that were ta'en, I'll unseal all my treasures the while; The laws shall be gentle, and peaceful the reign"-- The old man thus cries with a smile-- "Take courage, my son! all hath turned out for good, And each hath a star that is bright, Those the princess hath borne thee are princely in blood,"-- The children thy hear with delight. 1816. ----- THE VIOLET. UPON the mead a violet stood, Retiring, and of modest mood, In truth, a violet fair. Then came a youthful shepherdess, And r