To The Chosen One.

HAND in hand! and lip to lip!

Oh, be faithful, maiden dear!
Fare thee well! thy lover's ship

Past full many a rock must steers
But should he the haven see,

When the storm has ceased to break,
And be happy, reft of thee,

May the Gods fierce vengeance take!

Boldly dared is well nigh won!

Half my task is solved aright;
Ev'ry star's to me a sun,

Only cowards deem it night.
Stood I idly by thy side,

Sorrow still would sadden me;
But when seas our paths divide,

Gladly toil I, toil for thee!

Now the valley I perceive,

Where together we will go,
And the streamlet watch each eve,

Gliding peacefully below
Oh, the poplars on yon spot!

Oh, the beech trees in yon grove!
And behind we'll build a cot,

Where to taste the joys of love!



[This sweet song is doubtless one of those addressed to Frederica.]

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

New Love, New Life.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

The Spinner.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

His Comrade.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

The Wanderer.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Simple Poetry

English

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Welcome And Farewell.

Quick throbb'd my heart: to norse! haste, haste,

And lo! 'twas done with speed of light;
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And o'er the mountains hung the night.
Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak,

A tow'ring giant in his size,
Where darkness through the thicket broke,

And glared with hundred gloomy eyes.

From out a hill of clouds the moon

With mournful gaze began to peer:
The winds their soft wings flutter'd soon,

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The night a thousand monsters made,

Yet fresh and joyous was my mind;
What fire within my veins then play'd!

What glow was in my bosom shrin'd!

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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,
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Round sunny foliage bright.
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A nosegay as we roved;
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The Loving One Writes.

The look that thy sweet eyes on mine impress

The pledge thy lips to mine convey, the kiss,

He who, like me, hath knowledge sure of this,
Can he in aught beside find happiness?

Removed from thee, friend-sever'd, in distress,

These thoughts I vainly struggle to dismiss:

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The only one; then tears my grief confess.

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He loves, methinks, e'en to these glades so still,

And shalt not thou to distant lands extend?

Receive the murmurs of his loving sigh;

My only joy on earth is in thy will,

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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.

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Dreams of old acquaintance now pass through me,

Ne'er-forgotten queen of hours of blisses.

Likenesses I've often found, but this is
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Travellers often wonder beyond measure,

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June.

She behind yon mountain lives,
Who my love's sweet guerdon gives.
Tell me, mount, how this can be!
Very glass thou seem'st to me,
And I seem to be close by,
For I see her drawing nigh;
Now, because I'm absent, sad,
Now, because she sees me, glad!

Soon between us rise to sight
Valleys cool, with bushes light,
Streams and meadows; next appear

Mills and wheels, the surest token
That a level spot is near,

Plains far-stretching and unbroken.
And so onwards, onwards roam,
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The Chosen Cliff.

Here in silence the lover fondly mused on his loved one;

Gladly he spake to me thus: "Be thou my witness, thou stone!
Yet thou must not be vainglorious, thou hast many companions;

Unto each rock on the plain, where I, the happy one, dwell,
Unto each tree of the wood that I cling to, as onward I ramble,

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Chooseth one for herself, kissing his lips as a friend."

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