Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Page 264
Be no fragile rosy band!
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WITH A GOLDEN NECKLACE.
DEVOTION a chain to bring thee burns,
That, train’d to suppleness of old,
On thy fair neck to nestle, yearns,
In many a hundred little fold.
To please the silly thing consent!
’Tis harmless, and from boldness free!
By day a trifling ornament,
At night ’tis cast aside by thee.
But if the chain they bring thee ever,
Heavier, more fraught with weal or woe,
I’d then, Lisette, reproach thee never
If thou should’st greater scruples show.
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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 lov’d didst teach us.
Well ’tis that thy worth I rightly knew, —
That I, in the hour when first we met,
While the first impression fill’d me yet,
Call’d thee then a girl both good and true.
Rear’d in silence, calmly, knowing nought,
On the world we suddenly are thrown;
Hundred thousand billows round us sport;
All things charm us — many please alone,
Many grieve us, and as hour on hour is stealing,
To and fro our restless natures sway;
First we feel, and then we find each feeling
By the changeful world-stream borne away.
Well I know, we oft within us find
Many a hope and many a smart.
Charlotte, who can know our mind?
Charlotte, who can know our heart?
Ah! ’twould fain be understood, ’twould fain o’erflow
In some creature’s fellow-feelings bless’d,
And, with trust, in twofold measure know
All the grief and joy in Nature’s breast.
Then thine eye is oft around thee cast,
But in vain, for all seems clos’d forever;
Thus the fairest part of life is madly pass’d
Free from storm, but resting never;
To thy sorrow thou’rt to-day repell’d
By what yesterday obey’d thee.
Can that world by thee be worthy held
Which so oft betray’d thee?
Which, ‘mid all thy pleasures and thy pains,
Liv’d in selfish, unconcern’d repose?
See, the soul its secret cells regains,
And the heart — makes haste to close.
Thus found I thee, and gladly went to meet thee;
“She’s worthy of all love!” I cried,
And pray’d that Heaven with purest bliss might greet thee,
Which in thy friend it richly hath supplied.
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ON THE LAKE.
I DRINK fresh nourishment, new blood
From out this world more free;
The Nature is so kind and good
That to her breast clasps me!
The billows toss our bark on high,
And with our oars keep time,
While cloudy mountains tow’rd the sky
Before our progress climb.
Say, mine eye, why sink’st thou down?
Golden visions, are ye flown?
Hence, thou dream, tho’ golden-twin’d;
Here, too, love and life I find.
Over the waters are blinking
Many a thousand fair star;
Gentle mists are drinking
Round the horizon afar.
Round the shady creek lightly
Morning zephyrs awake,
And the ripen’d fruit brightly
Mirrors itself in the lake.
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FROM THE MOUNTAIN.
IF I, dearest Lily, did not love thee,
How this prospect would enchant my sight!
And yet if I, Lily, did not love thee,
Could I find, or here or there, delight?
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Flower Salute.
THIS nosegay, — ’twas I dress’d it, —
Greets thee a thousand times!
Oft stoop’d I, and caress’d it,
Ah! full a thousand times,
And ‘gainst my bosom press’d it
A hundred thousand times!
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MAY SONG.
BETWEEN wheatfield and corn,
Between hedgerow and thorn,
Between pasture and tree,
Where’s my sweetheart?
Tell it me!
Sweetheart caught I
Not at home;
She’s then, thought I,
Gone to roam.
Fair and loving
Blooms sweet May;
Sweetheart’s roving,
Free and gay.
By the rock near the wave,
Where her first kiss she gave,
On the greensward, to me, —
Something I see!
Is it she?
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PREMATURE SPRING.
DAYS full of rapture,
Are ye renew’d? —
Smile in the sunlight,
Mountain and wood?
Streams richer laden
Flow through the dale.
Are these the meadows?
Is this the vale?
Coolness cerulean!
Heaven and height!
Fish crowd the ocean,
Golden and bright.
Birds of gay plumage
Sport in the grove,
Heavenly numbers
Singing above.
Under the verdure’s
Vigorous bloom,
Bees, softly humming,
Juices consume.
Gentle disturbance
Quivers in air,
Sleep-causing fragrance,
Motion so fair.
Soon with more power
Rises the breeze,
Then in a moment
Dies in the trees.
But to the bosom
Comes it again.
Aid me, ye Muses,
Bliss to sustain!
Say what has happen’d
Since yester e’en?
Oh, ye fair sisters,
Her I have seen!
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Autumn Feelings
FLOURISH greener, as ye clamber,
O ye leaves, to seek my chamber,
Up the trellis’d vine on high!
May ye swell, twin-berries tender,
Juicier far, — and with more splendor
Ripen, and more speedily!
O’er ye broods the sun at even
As he sinks to rest, and heaven
Softly breathes into your ear
All its fertilizing fulness,
While the moon’s refreshing coolness,
Magic-laden, hovers near;
And, alas! ye’re water’d ever
By a stream of tears that rill
From mine eyes, — tears ceasing never,
Tears of love that nought
can still!
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RESTLESS LOVE.
THROUGH rain, through snow,
Through tempest go!
‘Mongst steaming caves,
O’er misty waves,
On, on! still on!
Peace, rest have flown!
Sooner through sadness
I’d wish to be slain,
Than all the gladness
Of life to sustain;
All the fond yearning
That heart feels for heart,
Only seems burning
To make them both smart!
How shall I fly?
Forestwards hie?
Vain were all strife!
Bright crown of life,
Turbulent bliss, —
Love, thou art this!
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THE SHEPHERD’S LAMENT.
ON yonder lofty mountain
A thousand times I stand,
And on my staff reclining,
Look down on the smiling land.
My grazing flocks then I follow,
My dog protecting them well;
I find myself in the valley,
But how, I scarcely can tell.
The whole of the meadow is cover’d
With flowers of beauty rare;
I pluck them, but pluck them unknowing
To whom the offering to bear.
In rain and storm and tempest,
I tarry beneath the tree,
But clos’d remaineth yon portal;
’Tis all but a vision to me.
High over yonder dwelling,
There rises a rainbow gay;
But she from home hath departed,
And wander’d far, far away.
Yes, far away hath she wander’d,
Perchance e’en over the sea;
Move onward, ye sheep, then, move onward!
Full sad the shepherd must be.
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COMFORT IN TEARS.
HOW happens it that thou art sad,
While happy all appear?
Thine eye proclaims too well that thou
Hast wept full many a tear.
“If I have wept in solitude,
None other shares my grief,
And tears to me sweet balsam are,
And give my heart relief.”
Thy happy friends invite thee now, —
Oh, come, then, to our breast!
And let the loss thou hast sustain’d
Be there to us confess’d!
“Ye shout, torment me, knowing not
What ’tis afflicteth me;
Ah, no! I have sustain’d no loss,
Whate’er may wanting be.”
If so it is, arise in haste!
Thou’rt young and full of life.
At years like thine, man’s bless’d with strength
And courage for the strife.
“Ah, no! in vain ’twould be to strive,
The thing I seek is far;
It dwells as high, it gleams as fair
As yonder glitt’ring star.”
The stars we never long to clasp,
We revel in their light,
And with enchantment upward gaze,
Each clear and radiant night.
“And I with rapture upward gaze,
On many a blissful day;
Then let me pass the night in tears,
Till tears are wip’d away!”
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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 go thither,
I fain would be there!
The sociable flight
Of the ravens comes back;
I mingle amongst them,
And follow their track.
Round wall and round mountain
Together we fly;
She tarries below there,
I after her spy.
Then onward she wanders,
My flight I wing soon
To the wood fill’d with bushes,
A bird of sweet tune.
She tarries and hearkens,
And smiling, thinks she:
“How sweetly he’s singing!
He’s singing to me!”
The heights are illum’d
By the fast setting sun;
The pensive fair maiden
Looks thoughtfully on;
She roams by the streamlet,
O’er meadows she goes,
And darker and darker
The pathway fast grows.
I rise on a sudden,
A glimmering star;
“What glitters above me,
So near and so far?”
And when thou with wonder
Hast gaz’d on the light,
I fall down before thee,
Entranc’d by thy sight!
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TO MIGNON.
OVER vale and torrent far
Rolls along the sun’s bright car.
Ah! he wakens in his course
Mine, as thy deep-seated smart
In the heart,
Ev’ry morning with new force.
Scarce avails night aught to me;
E’en the visions that I see
Come but in a mournful guise;
And I feel this silent smart
In my heart
With creative power arise.
During many a beauteous year
I have seen ships ‘neath me steer,
As they seek the shelt’ring bay;
But, alas, each lasting smart
In my heart
Floats not with the stream away.
I must wear a gala dress,
Long stor’d up within my press,
For to-day to feasts is given;
None know with what bitter smart
Is my heart
Fearfully and madly riven.
Secretly I weep each tear,
Yet can cheerful e’en appear,
With a face of healthy red;
For if deadly were this smart
In my heart,
Ah, I then had long been dead!
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THE MOUNTAIN CASTLE
THERE stands on yonder high mountain
A castle built of yore,
Where once lurk’d horse and horseman
In rear of gate and of door.
Now door and gate are in ashes,
And all around is so still;
And over the fallen ruins
I clamber just as I will.
Below once lay a cellar,
With costly wines well stor’d;
No more the glad maid with her pitcher
Descends there to draw from the hoard.
No longer the goblet she places
Before the guests at the feast;
The flask at the meal so hallow’d
No longer she fills for the priest.
No more for the eager squire
The draught in the passage is pour’d;
No more for the flying present
Receives she the flying reward.
For all the roof and the rafters,
They all long since have been burn’d,
And stairs and passage and chapel
To rubbish and ruins are turn’d.
Yet when with lute and with flagon,
When day was smiling and bright,
<
br /> I’ve watch’d my mistress climbing
To gain this perilous height,
Then rapture joyous and radiant
The silence so desolate broke,
And all, as in days long vanish’d,
Once more to enjoyment awoke;
As if for guests of high station
The largest rooms were prepar’d;
As if from those times so precious
A couple thither had far’d;
As if there stood in his chapel
The priest in his sacred dress,
And ask’d: “Would ye twain be united?”
And we, with a smile, answer’d, “Yes!”
And songs that breath’d a deep feeling,
That touch’d the heart’s innermost chord,
The music-fraught mouth of sweet echo,
Instead of the many, outpour’d.
And when at eve all was hidden
In silence unbroken and deep,
The glowing sun then look’d upwards,
And gaz’d on the summit so steep.
And squire and maiden then glitter’d
As bright and gay as a lord,
She seiz’d the time for her present,
And he to give her reward.
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THE SPIRIT’S SALUTE.
THE hero’s noble shade stands high
On yonder turret gray;
And as the ship is sailing by,
He speeds it on his way.
“See with what strength these sinews thrill’d!
This heart, how firm and wild!
These bones, what knightly marrow fill’d!
This cup, how bright it smil’d!
“Half of my life I strove and fought,
And half I calmly pass’d;
And thou, oh, ship, with beings fraught,
Sail safely to the last!”
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TO A GOLDEN HEART THAT HE WORE ROUND HIS NECK.
OH, thou token lov’d of joys now perish’d
That I still wear from my neck suspended,
Art thou stronger than our spirit-bond so cherish’d?
Or canst thou prolong love’s days untimely ended?
Lily, I fly from thee! I still am doom’d to range,
Thro’ countries strange,
Thro’ distant vales and woods, link’d on to thee!
Ah, Lily’s heart could surely never fall
So soon away from me!
As when a bird hath broken from his thrall,
And seeks the forest green,
Proof of imprisonment he bears behind him,
A morsel of the thread once used to bind him;
The free-born bird of old no more is seen,
For he another’s prey hath been.
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THE BLISS OF SORROW.
NEVER dry, never dry,
Tears that eternal love sheddeth!