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!
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
DISTICHS
CHORDS are touch’d by Apollo, the death-laden Bow, too, he bendeth; While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays In the dust. WHAT is merciful censure? To make thy faults appear Smaller? May be
THE TRAVELLER AND THE FARM~MAIDEN
HE. CANST thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden, ‘Neath the shadow of the lindens yonder, Where I’d fain one moment cease to wander, Food and drink to one so heavy laden? SHE. Wouldst
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
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
MORNING LAMENT
OH thou cruel deadly-lovely maiden, Tell me what great sin have I committed, That thou keep’st me to the rack thus fasten’d, That thou hast thy solemn promise broken? ‘Twas but yestere’en that thou
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
GANYMEDE
How, in the light of morning, Round me thou glowest, Spring, thou beloved one! With thousand-varying loving bliss The sacred emotions Born of thy warmth eternal Press ‘gainst my bosom, Thou endlessly fair one!
THE METAMORPHOSIS OF PLANTS
THOU art confused, my beloved, at, seeing the thousandfold Union Shown in this flowery troop, over the garden dispers’d; Any a name dost thou hear assign’d; one after another Falls on thy list’ning ear,
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,
ANACREON'S GRAVE
HERE where the roses blossom, where vines round the laurels are Twining, Where the turtle-dove calls, where the blithe cricket is heard, Say, whose grave can this be, with life by all the Immortals
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,
THE ERL-KING
WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear? The father it is, with his infant so dear; He holdeth the boy tightly clasp’d in his arm, He holdeth him safely, he
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