Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Page 265
How dreary, how dead doth the world still appear,
When only half-dried on the eye is the tear!
Never dry, never dry,
Tears that unhappy love sheddeth!
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THE WANDERER’S NIGHT-SONG.
THOU who comest from on high,
Who all woes and sorrows stillest,
Who, for twofold misery,
Hearts with twofold balsam fillest,
Would this constant strife would cease!
What are pain and rapture now?
Blissful Peace,
To my bosom hasten thou!
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THE SAME.
HUSH’D on the hill
Is the breeze;
Scarce by the zephyr
The trees
Softly are press’d;
The woodbird’s asleep on the bough.
Wait, then, and thou
Soon wilt find rest.
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TO THE MOON.
FILL’D are bush and vale again
With thy misty ray,
And my spirit’s heavy chain
Castest far away.
Thou dost o’er my fields extend
Thy sweet soothing eye,
Watching like a gentle friend,
O’er my destiny.
Vanish’d days of bliss and woe
Haunt me with their tone,
Joy and grief in turns I know,
As I stray alone.
Stream belov’d, flow on! flow on!
Ne’er can I be gay!
Thus have sport and kisses gone,
Truth thus pass’d away.
Once I seem’d the lord to be
Of that prize so fair!
Now, to our deep sorrow, we
Can forget it ne’er.
Murmur, stream, the vale along,
Never cease thy sighs;
Murmur, whisper to my song
Answering melodies!
When thou in the winter’s night
Overflow’st in wrath,
Or in spring-time sparklest bright,
As the buds shoot forth.
He who from the world retires,
Void of hate, is bless’d;
Who a friend’s true love inspires,
Leaning on his breast!
That which heedless man ne’er knew,
Or ne’er thought aright,
Roams the bosom’s labyrinth through,
Boldly into night.
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THE HUNTER’S EVEN-SONG.
THE plain with still and wand’ring feet,
And gun full-charg’d, I tread,
And hov’ring see thine image sweet,
Thine image dear, o’erhead.
In gentle silence thou dost fare
Through field and valley dear;
But doth my fleeting image ne’er
To thy mind’s eye appear?
His image, who, by grief oppress’d,
Roams through the world forlorn,
And wanders on from east to west
Because from thee he’s torn?
When I would think of none but thee,
Mine eyes the moon survey;
A calm repose then steals o’er me,
But how, ‘twere hard to say.
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MY ONLY PROPERTY.
I FEEL that I’m possess’d of nought,
Saving the free unfetter’d thought
Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power
A loving fate with truth to know.
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TO LINA.
SHOULD these songs, love, as they fleet,
Chance again to reach thy hand,
At the piano take thy seat,
Where thy friend was wont to stand!
Sweep with finger bold the string,
Then the book one moment see:
But read not! do nought but sing!
And each page thine own will be!
Ah, what grief the song imparts
With its letters, black on white,
That, when breath’d by thee, our hearts
Now can break and now delight!
Fr. Pecht del
published by george barrie
[Editor: illegible word] [Editor: illegible word]
Goethe’s Mother
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Familiar Songs
What we sing in company
Soon from heart to heart will fly.
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ON THE NEW YEAR.
FATE now allow us,
‘Twixt the departing
And the upstarting,
Happy to be;
And at the call of
Memory cherish’d,
Future and perish’d
Moments we see.
Seasons of anguish, —
Ah, they must ever
Truth from woe sever,
Love and joy part;
Days still more worthy
Soon will unite us,
Fairer songs light us,
Strength’ning the heart.
We, thus united,
Think of, with gladness,
Rapture and sadness,
Sorrow now flies.
Oh, how mysterious
Fortune’s direction!
Old the connection,
New-born the prize!
Thank, for this, Fortune,
Wavering blindly!
Thank all that kindly
Fate may bestow!
Revel in change’s
Impulses clearer,
Love far sincerer,
More heartfelt glow!
Over the old one,
Wrinkles collected,
Sad and dejected,
Others may view;
But, on us gently
Shineth a true one,
And to the new one
We, too, are new.
As a fond couple
‘Midst the dance veering,
First disappearing,
Then reappear,
So let affection
Guide thro’ life’s mazy
Pathways so hazy
Into the year!
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ANNIVERSARY SONG.
WHY pacest thou, my neighbor fair,
The garden all alone?
If house and land thou seek’st to guard,
I’d thee as mistress own.
My brother sought the cellar-maid,
And suffer’d her no rest;
She gave him a refreshing draught,
A kiss, too, she impress’d.
My cousin is a prudent wight,
The cook’s by him ador’d;
He turns the spit round ceaselessly,
To gain love’s sweet reward.
We six-together then began
A banquet to consume,
When lo! a fourth pair singing came,
And danc’d into the room.
Welcome were they, — and welcome too
Was a fifth jovial pair,
Brimful of news, and stor’d with tales
And jests both new and rare.
For riddles, spirit, raillery,
And wit, a place remain’d;
A sixth pair then our circle join’d,
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sp; And so that prize was gain’d.
And yet to make us truly bless’d,
One miss’d we, and full sore;
A true and tender couple came, —
We needed then no more.
The social banquet now goes on,
Unchequer’d by alloy;
The sacred double-numbers then
Let all at once enjoy!
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THE SPRING ORACLE.
OH, prophetic bird so bright,
Blossom-songster, cuckoo hight!
In the fairest time of year,
Dearest bird, oh! deign to hear
What a youthful pair would pray;
Do thou call, if hope they may:
Thy cuck-oo, thy cuck-oo,
Ever more cuck-oo, cuck-oo!
Hearest thou? A loving pair
Fain would to the altar fare;
Yes! a pair in happy youth,
Full of virtue, full of truth.
Is the hour not fix’d by fate?
Say, how long must they still wait?
Hark! cuck-oo! hark! cuck-oo!
Silent yet! for shame, cuck-oo!
’Tis not our fault, certainly!
Only two years patient be!
But if we ourselves please here,
Will pa-pa-papas appear?
Know that thou’lt more kindness do us,
More thou’lt prophesy unto us.
One! cuck-oo! Two! cuck-oo!
Ever, ever, cuck-oo, cuck-oo, coo!
If we’ve calculated clearly,
We have half a dozen nearly.
If good promises we’ll give,
Wilt thou say how long we’ll live?
Truly, we’ll confess to thee,
We’d prolong it willingly.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!
Life is one continued feast —
(If we keep no score, at least.)
If now we together dwell,
Will true love remain as well?
For if that should e’er decay,
Happiness would pass away.
Coo cuck-oo, coo cuck-oo,
Coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo, coo!
(Gracefully ad infinitum.)
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THE HAPPY COUPLE.
AFTER these vernal rains
That we so warmly sought,
Dear wife, see how our plains
With blessings sweet are fraught!
We cast our distant gaze
Far in the misty blue;
Here gentle love still strays,
Here dwells still rapture true.
Thou seest whither go
Yon pair of pigeons white,
Where swelling violets blow
Round sunny foliage bright.
’Twas there we gather’d first
A nosegay as we rov’d;
There into flame first burst
The passion that we prov’d.
Yet when, with plighted troth,
The priest beheld us fare
Home from the altar both,
With many a youthful pair, —
Then other moons had birth,
And many a beauteous sun,
Then we had gain’d the earth
Whereon life’s race to run.
A hundred thousand fold
The mighty bond was seal’d;
In woods, on mountains cold,
In bushes, in the field,
Within the wall, in caves,
And on the craggy height,
And love, e’en o’er the waves,
Bore in his tube the light.
Contented we remain’d,
We deem’d ourselves a pair;
’Twas otherwise ordain’d,
For, lo! a third was there;
A fourth, fifth, sixth appear’d,
And sat around our board;
And now the plants we’ve rear’d
High o’er our heads have soar’d!
How fair and pleasant looks,
On yonder beauteous spot,
Embrac’d by poplar-brooks,
The newly-finish’d cot!
Who is it there that sits
In that glad home above?
Is’t not our darling Fritz
With his own darling love?
Beside yon precipice,
Whence pent-up waters steal,
And, leaving the abyss,
Fall foaming through the wheel, —
Though people often tell
Of millers’ wives so fair,
Yet none can e’er excel
Our dearest daughter there!
Yet where the thick-set green
Stands round yon church and sod,
Where the old fir tree’s seen
Alone tow’rd heaven to nod, —
’Tis there the ashes lie
Of our untimely dead;
From earth our gaze on high
By their bless’d memory’s led.
See how yon hill is bright
With billowy-waving arms!
The force returns, whose might
Has vanquish’d war’s alarms.
Who proudly hastens here
With wreath-encircl’d brow?
’Tis like our child so dear! —
Thus Charles comes homeward now.
That dearest honor’d guest
Is welcom’d by the bride;
She makes the true one bless’d,
At the glad festal tide.
And ev’ry one makes haste
To join the dance with glee;
While thou with wreaths hast grac’d
The youngest children three.
To sound of flute and horn
The time appears renew’d,
When we, in love’s young morn,
In the glad dance upstood;
And perfect bliss I know
Ere the year’s course is run,
For to the font we go
With grandson and with son!
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SONG OF FELLOWSHIP.
IN ev’ry hour of joy
That love and wine prolong,
The moments we’ll employ
To carol forth this song!
We’re gather’d in His name,
Whose power hath brought us here;
He kindled first our flame,
He bids it burn more clear.
Then gladly glow to-night,
And let our hearts combine!
Up! quaff with fresh delight
This glass of sparkling wine!
Up! hail the joyous hour,
And let your kiss be true;
With each new bond of power
The old becomes the new!
Who in our circle lives,
And is not happy there?
True liberty it gives,
And brother’s love so fair.
Thus heart and heart through life
With mutual love are fill’d;
And by no causeless strife
Our union e’er is chill’d.
Our hopes a God has crown’d
With life-discernment free,
And all we view around,
Renews our ecstasy.
Ne’er by caprice oppress’d,
Our bliss is ne’er destroy’d;
More freely throbs our breast,
By fancies ne’er alloy’d.
Where’er our foot we set,
The more life’s path extends,
And brighter, brighter yet
Our gaze on high ascends.
We know no grief or pain,
Though all things fall and rise;
Long may we thus remain!
Eternal be our ties!
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CONSTANCY IN CHANGE.
COULD this early bliss but rest
Constant for one single hour!
But e’en now the humid West
Scatters many a vernal shower.
Should the verdure give me joy?
’Tis to it I owe the shade;
Soon will storms its bloom destroy,
Soon will Autumn bid it fade.
Eagerly thy portion seize,
If thou would’st possess the fruit!
Fast begin to ripen these,
And the rest already shoot.
With each heavy storm of rain
Change comes o’er thy valley fair;
Once, alas! but not again
Can the same stream hold thee e’er.
And thyself, what erst at least
Firm as rocks appear’d to rise,
Walls and palaces thou seest
But with ever-changing eyes.
Fled forever now the lip
That with kisses used to glow,
And the foot, that used to skip
O’er the mountain, like the roe.
And the hand, so true and warm,
Ever rais’d in charity,
And the cunning-fashion’d form, —
All are now chang’d utterly.
And what used to bear thy name,
When upon yon spot it stood,
Like a rolling billow came,
Hast’ning on to join the flood.
Be then the beginning found
With the end in unison,
Swifter than the forms around
Are themselves now fleeting on!
Thank the merit in thy breast,
Thank the mould within thy heart,
That the Muses’ favor bless’d
Ne’er will perish, ne’er depart.
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TABLE SONG.
O’ER me, — how I cannot say, —
Heav’nly rapture’s growing.
Will it help to guide my way
To yon stars all-glowing?
Yet that here I’d sooner be,
To assert I’m able,
Where, with wine and harmony,
I may thump the table.
Wonder not, my dearest friends,
What ’tis gives me pleasure;
For of all that earth e’er lends,
’Tis the sweetest treasure.
Therefore solemnly I swear,
With no reservation,
That maliciously I’ll ne’er
Leave my present station.
Now that here we’re gather’d round,
Chasing cares and slumbers,
Let, methought, the goblet sound
To the bard’s glad numbers!
Many a hundred mile away,
Go those we love dearly;
Therefore let us here to-day
Make the glass ring clearly!
Here’s His health, through Whom we live!
I that faith inherit.
To our king the next toast give,