Truth poems
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The Maid Of The Mill's Repentance.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Expel thee!
What's this thou singest so falsely, forsooth,
Of love and a maiden's silent truth?
The Soldier's Consolation.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
No! in truth there's here no lack:
White the bread, the maidens black!
To another town, next night:
Black the bread, the maidens white!
The Maid Of The Mill's Treachery.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
[This Ballad is introduced in the Wanderjahre,
in a tale called The Foolish Pilgrim.]WHENCE comes our friend so hastily,When scarce the Eastern sky is grey?
Hath he just ceased, though cold it be,In yonder holy spot to pray?
The brook appears to hem his path,Would he barefooted o'er it go?
The Visit.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
While at work had slumber stolen o'er her;
For her knitting and her needle found I
Resting in her folded bands so tender;
And I placed myself beside her softly,
And held counsel, whether I should wake her.
On The New Year
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
------
What we sing in company
Soon from heart to heart will fly.
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Hans Sachs' Poetical Mission.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Soon as the spring-sun meets his view,
Repose begets him labour anew;
He feels that he holds within his brain
A little world, that broods there amain,
And that begins to act and to live,
Which he to others would gladly give.
From An Album Of 1604.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
HOPE provides wings to thought, and love to hope.
Rise up to Cynthia, love, when night is clearest,
And say, that as on high her figure changeth,
So, upon earth, my joy decays and grows.
To The Countess Granville.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Believe me, with great truth,
Very faithfully yours,
EDGAR A. BOWRING.
London, April, 1853.
The Muse's Mirror.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
EARLY one day, the Muse, when eagerly bent on adornment,
Follow'd a swift-running streamlet, the quietest nook by it seeking.
Quickly and noisily flowing, the changeful surface distorted
Ever her moving form; the goddess departed in anger.
Playing At Priests.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Through house and garden thus in state
We strutted early, strutted late,
Repeating with all proper unction,
Incessantly each holy function.
The best was wanting to the game;
April.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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 everTo explain these cyphers duly,--To unravel my looks truly
The Beauteous Flower.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Were I not prison'd here.
My sorrow sore oppresses me,
For when I was at liberty,
A Southern Girl
© Madison Julius Cawein
Serious but smiling, stately and serene,
And dreamier than a flower;
A girl in whom all sympathies convene
As perfumes in a bower;
Through whom one feels what soul and heart may mean,
And their resistless power.
Love As A Landscape Painter.
© Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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.
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.
The Song of the Camp
© James Bayard Taylor
GIVE us a song! the soldiers cried,
The outer trenches guarding,
When the heated guns of the camps allied
Grew weary of bombarding.
