The Page And The Miller'S Daughter.

PAGE.

Where goest thou? Where?
Miller's daughter so fair!

Thy name, pray?

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.

    'Tis Lizzy.

PAGE.
Where goest thou? Where?
With the rake in thy hand?

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Father's meadows and land

To visit, I'm busy.

PAGE.
Dost go there alone?

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
By this rake, sir, 'tis shown

That we're making the hay;
And the pears ripen fast
In the garden at last,

So I'll pick them to-day.

PAGE.
Is't a silent thicket I yonder view?

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Oh, yes! there are two;
There's one on each side.

PAGE.
I'll follow thee soon;
When the sun burns at noon
We'll go there, o'urselves from his rays to hide,
And then in some glade all-verdant and deep

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.
Why, people would say

PAGE.
Within mine arms thou gently wilt sleep.

MILLER'S DAUGHTER.

Your pardon, I pray!
Whoever is kiss'd by the miller-maid,
Upon the spot must needs be betray'd.

'Twould give me distress

To cover with white
Your pretty dark dress.
Equal with equal! then all is right!
That's the motto in which I delight.
I am in love with the miller-boy;
He wears nothing that I could destroy.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe was a German writer, poet, playwright, and natural philosopher, born on August 28, 1749, and died on March 22, 1832. He is considered one of the most important literary figures of the modern era. Goethe's best-known work, 'Faust,' is a profound exploration of human ambition, desire, and redemption. His contributions extend beyond literature into various fields, including science and politics. His writings and thoughts have had a lasting influence on Western culture.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Royal Prayer.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

The Bliss Of Sorrow.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

Leopold, Duke Of Brunswick.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

The Eagle And Dove.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

English

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The Maid Of The Mill's Treachery.

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?
Why curse his orisons in wrath,

Across those heights beclad with snow?

Alas! his warm bed he bath left,

Where he had look'd for bliss, I ween;
And if his cloak too, had been reft,

How fearful his disgrace had been!
By yonder villain sorely press'd,

His wallet from him has been torn;
Our hapless friend has been undress'd,

Left well nigh naked as when born.

The reason why he came this road,

Is that he sought a pair of eyes,
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The Miller's Daughter

It is the miller's daughter,
And she is grown so dear, so dear,
That I would be the jewel
That trembles in her ear:
For hid in ringlets day and night,
I'd touch her neck so warm and white.

And I would be the girdle
About her dainty dainty waist,
And her heart would beat against me,
In sorrow and in rest:
And I should know if it beat right,
I'd clasp it round so close and tight.

And I would be the necklace,
And all day long to fall and rise
Upon her balmy bosom,
With her laughter or her sighs:
And I would lie so light, so light,
I scarce should be unclasp'd at night.

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The Maid Of The Mill's Repentance.

YOUTH.

Away, thou swarthy witch! Go forth

From out my house, I tell thee!
Or else I needs must, in my wrath,

Expel thee!
What's this thou singest so falsely, forsooth,
Of love and a maiden's silent truth?

Who'll trust to such a story!

GIPSY.

I sing of a maid's repentant fears,

And long and bitter yearning;
Her levity's changed to truth and tears

All-burning.
She dreads no more the threats of her mother,
She dreads far less the blows of her brother,

Than the dearly loved-one's hatred.

YOUTH.

Of selfishness sing and treacherous lies,

Of murder and thievish plunder!
Such actions false will cause no surprise,

Or wonder.
When they share their booty, both clothes a...

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The Youth And The Millstream.

YOUTH.

Say, sparkling streamlet, whither thou

Art going!
With joyous mien thy waters now

Are flowing.
Why seek the vale so hastily?
Attend for once, and answer me!

MILLSTREAM.

Oh youth, I was a brook indeed;

But lately
My bed they've deepen'd, and my speed

Swell'd greatly,
That I may haste to yonder mill.
And so I'm full and never still.

YOUTH.

The mill thou seekest in a mood

Contented,
And know'st not how my youthful blood

'S tormented.
But doth the miller's daughter fair
Gaze often on thee kindly there?

MILLSTREAM.

She opes the shutters soon as light

Is gleaming;
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The Traveller And The Farm~Maiden.

HE.

Canst thou give, oh fair and matchless maiden,

'Neath the shadow of the lindens yonder,

Where I'd fain one moment cease to wander,
Food and drink to one so heavy laden?

SHE.

Wouldst thou find refreshment, traveller weary,

Bread, ripe fruit and cream to meet thy wishes,

None but Nature's plain and homely dishes,
Near the spring may soothe thy wanderings dreary.

HE.

Dreams of old acquaintance now pass through me,

Ne'er-forgotten queen of hours of blisses.

Likenesses I've often found, but this is
One that quite a marvel seemeth to me!

SHE.

Travellers often wonder beyond measure,

But their wonder soon see cause to smother;

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Away, Away, From The Sultry Ways.

    Away, away, from the sultry ways
        Where the pleasures fall and fade,
    To the bannered corn and the meadowed bloom
        And the forest's cooling shade!

    Afar, afar, from the rooms of care
        With the toils of life distressed,
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        And the quiet vales of rest!

    Away from the weary, dusty town,
        Where the sorrows dim the days,
    To the sleeping lake and the silent stream
        And the wildwood's tangled ways!

    To margins wide of the woodland pools,
        Where the wild birds troll their songs,
    Where the lilies laugh and the willows wave,
        And the pleasures dance in throngs!

    The dark-eyed nymphs and the fairy elves
        In t...

Freeman Edwin Miller