THE CHOSEN CLIFF
HERE in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one; Gladly he spake to me thus: “Be thou my witness, thou stone! Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions; Unto
LOVE AS A LANDSCAPE PAINTER
ON a rocky peak once sat I early, Gazing on the mist with eyes unmoving; Stretch’d out like a pall of greyish texture, All things round, and all above it cover’d. Suddenly a boy
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
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
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
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
THREE PALINODIAS
I. “Incense is hut a tribute for the gods, To mortals ’tis but poison.” THE smoke that from thine altar blows, Can it the gods offend? For I observe thou hold’st thy nose Pray
THE WALKING BELL
A CHILD refused to go betimes To church like other people; He roam’d abroad, when rang the chimes On Sundays from the steeple. His mother said: “Loud rings the bell, Its voice ne’er think
FOR EVER
THE happiness that man, whilst prison’d here, Is wont with heavenly rapture to compare, The harmony of Truth, from wavering clear, Of Friendship that is free from doubting care, The light which in stray
AUTHORS
OVER the meadows, and down the stream, And through the garden-walks straying, He plucks the flowers that fairest seem; His throbbing heart brooks no delaying. His maiden then comes oh, what ecstasy! Thy flowers
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
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
THREE ODES TO MY FRIEND
THESE are the most singular of all the Poems Of Goethe, and to many will appear so wild and fantastic, as to Leave anything but a pleasing impression. Those at the beginning, Addressed to
THE SPINNER
As I calmly sat and span, Toiling with all zeal, Lo! a young and handsome man Pass’d my spinning-wheel. And he praised, what harm was there? Sweet the things he said Praised my flax-resembling
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