Home ⇒ 📌Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe ⇒ MISCHIEVOUS JOY
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.
(2 votes, average: 4.50 out of 5)
Related poetry:
- The Comforter As I sat by my baby’s bed That’s open to the sky, There fluttered round and round my head A radiant butterfly. And as I wept of hearts that ache The saddest in the land It left a lily for my sake, And lighted on my hand. I watched it, oh, so quietly, And though […]...
- 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 […]...
- Miss Mischievous Miss Don’t-do-this and Don’t-do-that Has such a sunny smile You cannot help but chuckle at Her cuteness and her guile. Her locks are silken floss of gold, Her eyes are pansy blue: Maybe of years to eighty old The best is two. Miss Don’t-do-this and Don’t-do-that To roguishness is fain; To guard that laughter-loving brat […]...
- Butterfly Laughter In the middle of our porridge plates There was a blue butterfly painted And each morning we tried who should reach the Butterfly first. Then the Grandmother said: “Do not eat the poor Butterfly.” That made us laugh. Always she said it and always it started us laughing. It seemed such a sweet little joke. […]...
- 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, […]...
- Whence Cometh Such Tender Rapture? Whence cometh such tender rapture? Those curls they are not the first ones I’ve smoothened, and I’ve already Known lips that were darker than yours. The stars have risen and faded, Whence cometh such tender rapture? And eyes have risen and faded In face of these eyes of mine I’d never yet hearkened unto Such […]...
- 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 […]...
- Chuang Tzu And The Butterfly Chuang Tzu in dream became a butterfly, And the butterfly became Chuang Tzu at waking. Which was the real-the butterfly or the man? Who can tell the end of the endless changes of things? The water that flows into the depth of the distant sea Returns anon to the shallows of a transparent stream. The […]...
- The Wandering Bard What life like that of the bard can be The wandering bard, who roams as free As the mountain lark that o’er him sings, And, like that lark a music brings, Within him, where’er he comes or goes A fount that for ever flows! The world’s to him like some playground, Where fairies dance their […]...
- 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 […]...
- The Marionettes Of Distant Masters A pianist dreams that he’s hired by a wrecking company to Ruin a piano with his fingers. . . On the day of the piano wrecking concert, as he’s Dressing, he notices a butterfly annoying a flower in his window Box. He wonders if the police should be called. Then he thinks Maybe the butterfly […]...
- Cruelty and Love What large, dark hands are those at the window Lifted, grasping in the yellow light Which makes its way through the curtain web At my heart to-night? Ah, only the leaves! So leave me at rest, In the west I see a redness come Over the evening’s burning breast For now the pain is numb. […]...
- Cocoon above! Cocoon below! Cocoon above! Cocoon below! Stealthy Cocoon, why hide you so What all the world suspect? An hour, and gay on every tree Your secret, perched in ecstasy Defies imprisonment! An hour in Chrysalis to pass, Then gay above receding grass A Butterfly to go! A moment to interrogate, Then wiser than a “Surrogate,” The Universe […]...
- I Like For You To Be Still I like for you to be still It is as though you are absent And you hear me from far away And my voice does not touch you It seems as though your eyes had flown away And it seems that a kiss had sealed your mouth As all things are filled with my soul […]...
- He Hears The Cry Of The Sedge I wander by the edge Of this desolate lake Where wind cries in the sedge: Until the axle break That keeps the stars in their round, And hands hurl in the deep The banners of East and West, And the girdle of light is unhound, Your breast will not lie by the breast Of your […]...
- The Curse Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows across the sea. And I shall meet a fisherman Out of Capri, And he will say, seeing me, “What a Strange Thing! Like a fish’s scale or a Butterfly’s wing.” Oh, lay my ashes on the wind That blows away the fog. And I shall meet […]...
- TO CHARLOTTE ‘MIDST the noise of merriment and glee, ‘Midst full many a sorrow, many a care, Charlotte, I remember, we remember thee, How, at evening’s hour so fair, Thou a kindly hand didst reach us, When thou, in some happy place Where more fair is Nature s face, Many a lightly-hidden trace Of a spirit loved […]...
- Butterfly Butterfly, the wind blows sea-ward, strong beyond the garden-wall! Butterfly, why do you settle on my shoe, and sip the dirt on my shoe, Lifting your veined wings, lifting them? big white butterfly! Already it is October, and the wind blows strong to the sea From the hills where snow must have fallen, the wind […]...
- ON THE NEW YEAR 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 […]...
- Cacoethes Scribendi If all the trees in all the woods were men; And each and every blade of grass a pen; If every leaf on every shrub and tree Turned to a sheet of foolscap; every sea Were changed to ink, and all earth’s living tribes Had nothing else to do but act as scribes, And for […]...
- What Does It Mean It does not know it glitters It does not know it flies It does not know it is this not that. And, more and more often, agape, With my Gauloise dying out, Over a glass of red wine, I muse on the meaning of being this not that. Just as long ago, when I was […]...
- Nobody knows this little Rose Nobody knows this little Rose It might a pilgrim be Did I not take it from the ways And lift it up to thee. Only a Bee will miss it Only a Butterfly, Hastening from far journey On its breast to lie Only a Bird will wonder Only a Breeze will sigh Ah Little Rose […]...
- Under The Round Tower ‘Although I’d lie lapped up in linen A deal I’d sweat and little earn If I should live as live the neighbours,’ Cried the beggar, Billy Byrne; ‘Stretch bones till the daylight come On great-grandfather’s battered tomb.’ Upon a grey old battered tombstone In Glendalough beside the stream Where the O’Byrnes and Byrnes are buried, […]...
- The Death King I hired a carpenter To build my coffin And last night I lay in it, Braced by a pillow, Sniffing the wood, Letting the old king Breathe on me, Thinking of my poor murdered body, Murdered by time, Waiting to turn stiff as a field marshal, Letting the silence dishonor me, Remembering that I’ll never […]...
- Sonnet 02 Think Valentine, as speeding on thy way Homeward thou hastest light of heart along, If heavily creep on one little day The medley crew of travellers among, Think on thine absent friend: reflect that here On Life’s sad journey comfortless he roves, Remote from every scene his heart holds dear, From him he values, and […]...
- Winter Stores WE take from life one little share, And say that this shall be A space, redeemed from toil and care, From tears and sadness free. And, haply, Death unstrings his bow And Sorrow stands apart, And, for a little while, we know The sunshine of the heart. Existence seems a summer eve, Warm, soft, and […]...
- 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. […]...
- Some Like Poetry Write it. Write. In ordinary ink On ordinary paper: they were given no food, They all died of hunger. “All. How many? It’s a big meadow. How much grass For each one?” Write: I don’t know. History counts its skeletons in round numbers. A thousand and one remains a thousand, As though the one had […]...
- Sonnet XV: Now, Round My Favour'd Grot Now, round my favor’d grot let roses rise, To strew the bank where Phaon wakes from rest; O! happy buds! to kiss his burning breast, And die, beneath the lustre of his eyes! Now, let the timbrels echo to the skies, Now damsels sprinkel cassia on his vest, With od’rous wreaths of constant myrtle drest, […]...
- The Example Here’s an example from A Butterfly; That on a rough, hard rock Happy can lie; Friendless and all alone On this unsweetened stone. Now let my bed be hard No care take I; I’ll make my joy like this Small Butterfly; Whose happy heart has power To make a stone a flower....
- Lines Written From Home Though bleak these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan; There is a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
- The Consolation Though bleak these woods and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strewn, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy moan, There is a friendly roof I know Might shield me from the wintry blast; There is a fire whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past. And […]...
- The Faded Bouquet FAIR was this blushing ROSE of May, And fresh it hail’d morn’s breezy hour, When ev’ry spangled leaf look’d gay, Besprinkled with the twilight show’r; When to its mossy buds so sweet, The BUTTERFLY enamour’d flew, And hov’ring o’er the fragrant treat, Oft bath’d its silken wings in dew. SWEET was this PRIMROSE of the […]...
- Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
- Charms She walks as lightly as the fly Skates on the water in July. To hear her moving petticoat For me is music’s highest note. Stones are not heard, when her feet pass, No more than tumps of moss or grass. When she sits still, she’s like the flower To be a butterfly next hour. The […]...
- Daybreak In Alabama When I get to be a composer I’m gonna write me some music about Daybreak in Alabama And I’m gonna put the purtiest songs in it Rising out of the ground like a swamp mist And falling out of heaven like soft dew. I’m gonna put some tall tall trees in it And the scent […]...
- Carbonara eyes Nicky said I couldn’t write, she’s got a charming Sense of social etiquette – given she’s a bitch (the canine sort, can’t spell for shit or even write A word) but then she has the most expressive eyes. So what she said was no surprise, she’d heard My lamentations, licked my hands, rested forepaws On […]...
- Twelfth Night His first infidelity was a mistake, but not as big As her false pregnancy. Later, the boy found out He was born three months earlier than the date On his birth certificate, which had turned into A marriage license in his hands. Had he been trapped In a net, like a moth mistaken for a […]...
- The Cuckoo The cuckoo, like a hawk in flight, With narrow pointed wings Whews o’er our heads-soon out of sight And as she flies she sings: And darting down the hedgerow side She scares the little bird Who leaves the nest it cannot hide While plaintive notes are heard. I’ve watched it on an old oak tree […]...
- 234. A Mother's Lament for her Son's Death FATE gave the word, the arrow sped, And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops, In dust dishonour’d laid; So fell the pride of all my hopes, My age’s future shade. The mother-linnet in the brake Bewails her ravish’d […]...