Life poems
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Presence.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
ALL things give token of thee!
As soon as the bright sun is shining,
Thou too wilt follow, I trust.
Tame Xenia.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE Epigrams bearing the title of XENIA were written
by Goethe and Schiller together, having been first occasioned by
some violent attacks made on them by some insignificant writers.
They are extremely numerous, but scarcely any of them could be translated
into English. Those here given are merely presented as a specimen.
To The Countess Granville.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Believe me, with great truth,
Very faithfully yours,
EDGAR A. BOWRING.
London, April, 1853.
The New Amadis.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
IN my boyhood's days so drearI 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,
Before A Court Of Justice.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE father's name ye ne'er shall be toldOf my darling unborn life;
"Shame, shame," ye cry, "on the strumpet bold!"Yet I'm an honest wife.To whom I'm wedded, ye ne'er shall be told,Yet he's both loving and fair;
He wears on his neck a chain of gold,And a hat of straw doth he wear.If scorn 'tis vain to seek to repel,On me let the scorn be thrown.
I know him well, and he knows me well,And to God, too, all is known.Sir Parson and Sir Bailiff, again,I pray you, leave me in peace!
Ballad Of The Banished And Returning Count.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[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.]
The Beauteous Flower.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Were I not prison'd here.
My sorrow sore oppresses me,
For when I was at liberty,
The Orphan Boy's Tale
© Amelia Opie
Stay, lady, stay, for mercy's sake,
And hear a helpless orphan's tale,
Ah! sure my looks must pity wake,
'Tis want that makes my cheek so pale.
The Spagnoletto. Act IV
© Emma Lazarus
Night. RIBERA'S bedroom. RIBERA discovered in his dressing-gown,
seated reading beside a table, with a light upon it. Enter from
an open door at the back of the stage, MARIA. She stands
irresolute for a moment on the threshold behind her father,
watching him, passes her hand rapidly over her brow and eyes,
and then knocks.
Original Preface.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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.
The Spring Oracle.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
OH prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo bight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
Death-lament Of The Noble Wife Of Asan Aga.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Scarcely had the Cadi read this letter,
Than he gather'd all his Suatians round him,
And then tow'rd the bride his course directed,
And the veil she ask'd for, took he with him.
Limerick: There was an Old Man who, when little
© Edward Lear
There was an Old Man who, when little,
Fell casually into a Kettle;
But, growing too stout,
He could never get out,
So he passed all his life in that Kettle.
Ode to Marbles by Max Mendelsohn: American Life in Poetry #163 Ted Kooser, U.S. Poet Laureate 2004-2
© Ted Kooser
I have always enjoyed poems that celebrate the small pleasures of life. Here Max Mendelsohn, age 12, of Weston, Massachusetts, tells us of the joy he finds in playing with marbles.
Ode to Marbles
With A Painted Ribbon.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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;
On Receiving A Book From Dante Rossetti
© Sydney Thompson Dobell
Since he is Poet of whom gods ordain
Some most anthropic and perhuman act
I Am A Parcel Of Vain Strivings Tied
© Henry David Thoreau
I am a parcel of vain strivings tied
By a chance bond together,
Dangling this way and that, their links
Were made so loose and wide,
Methinks,
For milder weather.
