The Observer.

Stern as my conscience, thou seest the points wherein I'm deficient;
Therefore I've always loved thee, as my own conscience I've loved.

Friedrich Schiller

Friedrich Schiller was a renowned German poet, philosopher, physician, historian, and playwright. Born on November 10, 1759, in Marbach am Neckar, and passing away on May 9, 1805, in Weimar, Schiller is considered one of the most important figures in German literature. His works, including 'Ode to Joy' and 'William Tell', have left a lasting impact on Western literature and thought.

Friedrich Schiller

The Artifice.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

Variety.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

Spinosa.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

The Moral Poet.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Key.

Wouldst thou know thyself, observe the actions of others.
Wouldst thou other men know, look thou within thine own heart.

Friedrich Schiller

The Moral Poet.

Man is in truth a poor creature, I know it, and fain would forget it;
Therefore (how sorry I am!) came I, alas, unto thee!

Friedrich Schiller

The Philosophers.

PUPIL.
I am rejoiced, worthy sirs, to find you in pleno assembled;
For I have come down below, seeking the one needful thing.

ARISTOTLE.
Quick to the point, my good friend! For the Jena Gazette comes to hand here,
Even in hell, so we know all that is passing above.

PUPIL.
So much the better! So give me (I will not depart hence without it)
Some good principle now, one that will always avail!

FIRST PHILOSOPHER.
Cogito, ergo sum. I have thought, and therefore existence!
If the first be but true, then is the second one sure.

PUPIL.
As I think, I exist. 'Tis good! But who always is thinking?
Oft I've existed e'en when I have been thinking of naught.

SECOND PHILOSOPHER.
Since there are things that exist, a thing of all things there must...

Friedrich Schiller

The Secret.

She sought to breathe one word, but vainly;
Too many listeners were nigh;
And yet my timid glance read plainly
The language of her speaking eye.
Thy silent glades my footstep presses,
Thou fair and leaf-embosomed grove!
Conceal within thy green recesses
From mortal eye our sacred love!

Afar with strange discordant noises,
The busy day is echoing;
And 'mid the hollow hum of voices,
I hear the heavy hammer ring.
'Tis thus that man, with toil ne'er ending
Extorts from heaven his daily bread;
Yet oft unseen the Gods are sending
The gifts of fortune on his head!

Oh, let mankind discover never
How true love fills with bliss our hearts
They would but crush our joy forever,
For joy to them no glow imparts.
Thou ne'er wilt from the world...

Friedrich Schiller

The Agreement.

Both of us seek for truth in the world without thou dost seek it,
I in the bosom within; both of us therefore succeed.
If the eye be healthy, it sees from without the Creator;
And if the heart, then within doubtless it mirrors the world.

Friedrich Schiller

To The Poet.

Let thy speech be to thee what the body is to the loving;
Beings it only can part, beings it only can join.

Friedrich Schiller