The Poems of Goethe - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (readera ebook reader .txt) 📗

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'II 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!

1803.*

(Gracefully in infinitum.)

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 roved; There into flame first burst

The passion that we proved.

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, Embraced 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 sad, 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 blest memory's led.

See how yon hill is bright

With billowy-waving arms! The force returns, whose might

Has vanquished war's alarms. Who proudly hastens here

With wreath-encircled brow? 'Tis like our child so dear

Thus Charles comes homeward now.

That dearest honour'd guest

Is welcom'd by the bride; She makes the true one blest,

At the glad festal tide. And ev'ry one makes haste

To join the dance with glee; While thou with wreaths hast graced

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!

1803.* -----

SONG OF FELLOWSHIP.

[Written and sung in honour of the birthday of the Pastor Ewald at the time of Goethe's happy connection with Lily.]

IN ev'ry hour of joy

That love and wine prolong, The moments we'll employ

To carol forth this song! We're gathered 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!

1775. -----

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 wouldst 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 for ever 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 raised in charity, And the cunning-fashion'd form,--

All are now changed 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' favour blest Ne'er will perish, ne'er depart.

1803.* -----

TABLE SONG.

[Composed for the merry party already mentioned, on the occasion of the departure for France of the hereditary prince, who was one of the number, and who is especially alluded to in the 3rd verse.]

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,

Honour is his merit, 'Gainst each in-- and outward foe

He's our rock and tower. Of his maintenance thinks he though,

More that grows his power.

Next to her good health I drink,

Who has stirr'd my passion; Of his mistress let each think,

Think in knightly fashion. If the beauteous maid but see

Whom 'tis I now call so, Let her smiling nod to me:

"Here's my love's health also!"

To those friends,--the two or three,--

Be our next toast given, In whose presence revel we,

In the silent even,-- Who the gloomy mist so cold

Scatter gently, lightly; To those friends, then, new or old,

Let the toast ring brightly.

Broader now the stream rolls on,

With its waves more swelling, While in higher, nobler tone,

Comrades, we are dwelling,-- We who with collected might,

Bravely cling together, Both in fortune's sunshine bright,

And in stormy weather.

Just as we are gather'd thus,

Others are collected; On them, therefore, as on us,

Be Fate's smile directed! From the springhead to the sea,

Many a mill's revolving, And the world's prosperity

Is the task I'm solving.

1802. -----

WONT AND DONE.

I HAVE loved; for the first time with passion I rave! I then was the servant, but now am the slave;

I then was the servant of all: By this creature so charming I now am fast bound, To love and love's guerdon she turns all around, And her my sole mistress I call.

l've had faith; for the first time my faith is now strong! And though matters go strangely, though matters go wrong,

To the ranks of the faithful I'm true: Though ofttimes 'twas dark and though ofttimes 'twas drear, In the pressure of need, and when danger was near, Yet the dawning of light I now view.

I have eaten; but ne'er have thus relish'd my food! For when glad are the senses, and joyous the blood,

At table all else is effaced As for youth, it but swallows, then whistles an air; As for me, to a jovial resort I'd repair, Where to eat, and enjoy what I taste.

I have drunk; but have never thus relish'd the bowl! For wine makes us lords, and enlivens the soul,

And loosens the trembling slave's tongue. Let's not seek to spare then the heart-stirring drink, For though in the barrel the old wine may sink, In its place will fast mellow the young.

I have danced, and to dancing am pledged by a vow! Though no caper or waltz may be raved about now,

In a dance that's becoming, whirl round. And he who a nosegay of flowers has dress'd, And cares not for one any more than the rest, With a garland of mirth is aye crown'd.

Then once more be merry, and banish all woes! For he who but gathers the blossoming rose.

By its thorns will be tickled alone. To-day still, as yesterday, glimmers the star; Take care from all heads that hang down to keep far, And make but the future thine own. 1813. -----

GENERAL CONFESSION.

In this noble ring to-day

Let my warning shame ye! Listen to my solemn voice,--

Seldom does it name ye. Many a thing have ye intended,

Many a thing have badly ended, And now I must blame ye.

At some moment in our lives

We must all repent us! So confess, with pious trust,

All your sins momentous! Error's crooked pathways shunning.

Let us, on the straight road running, Honestly content us!

Yes! we've oft, when waking, dream'd,

Let's confess it rightly; Left undrain'd the brimming cup,

When it sparkled brightly; Many a shepherd's-hour's soft blisses,

Many a dear mouth's flying kisses We've neglected lightly.

Mute and silent have we sat,

Whilst the blockheads prated, And above e'en song divine