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.

August 28, 1749

March 22, 1832

German

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Blindman's Buff.

OH, my Theresa dear!
Thine eyes, I greatly fear,

Can through the bandage see!
Although thine eyes are bound,
By thee I'm quickly found,

And wherefore shouldst thou catch but me?

Ere long thou held'st me fast,
With arms around me cast,

Upon thy breast I fell;
Scarce was thy bandage gone,
When all my joy was flown,

Thou coldly didst the blind repel.

He groped on ev'ry side,
His limbs he sorely tried,

While scoffs arose all round;
If thou no love wilt give,
In sadness I shall live,

As if mine eyes remain'd still bound.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Book Of The Minstrel.

TALISMANS.

God is of the east possess'd,
God is ruler of the west;
North and south alike, each land
Rests within His gentle hand.
-
He, the only righteous one,
Wills that right to each be done.
'Mongst His hundred titles, then,
Highest praised be this! Amen.
-
Error seeketh to deceive me,
Thou art able to retrieve me;
Both in action and in song
Keep my course from going wrong.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Burial.

To the grave one day from a house they bore

A maiden;
To the window the citizens went to explore;
In splendour they lived, and with wealth as of yore

Their banquets were laden.
Then thought they: "The maid to the tomb is now borne;
We too from our dwellings ere long must be torn,
And he that is left our departure to mourn,

To our riches will be the successor,

For some one must be their possessor.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

By The River.

When by the broad stream thou dost dwell,

Oft shallow is its sluggish flood;
Then, when thy fields thou tendest well,

It o'er them spreads its slime and mud.

The ships descend ere daylight wanes,

The prudent fisher upward goes;
Round reef and rock ice casts its chains,

And boys at will the pathway close.

To this attend, then, carefully,

And what thou wouldst, that execute!
Ne'er linger, ne'er o'erhasty be,

For time moves on with measured foot.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

By The River.

Flow on, ye lays so loved, so fair,

On to Oblivion's ocean flow!
May no rapt boy recall you e'er,

No maiden in her beauty's glow!

My love alone was then your theme,

But now she scorns my passion true.
Ye were but written in the stream;

As it flows on, then, flow ye too!

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Calm At Sea.

Silence deep rules o'er the waters,

Calmly slumb'ring lies the main,
While the sailor views with trouble

Nought but one vast level plain.

Not a zephyr is in motion!

Silence fearful as the grave!
In the mighty waste of ocean

Sunk to rest is ev'ry wave.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Cantatas.

The flowers so carefully rear'd,

In a garland for him I oft twin'd:
How sweet have they ever appear'd,

When wreath'd for a friend dear and kind.
Then incense sweet ascended,

Then new-horn blossoms rose,
With gentle zephyrs blended

In tones of soft repose.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Cat-Pie.

While he is mark'd by vision clear

Who fathoms Nature's treasures,
The man may follow, void of fear,

Who her proportions measures.

Though for one mortal, it is true,

These trades may both be fitted,
Yet, that the things themselves are two

Must always be admitted.

Once on a time there lived a cook

Whose skill was past disputing,
Who in his head a fancy took

To try his luck at shooting.

So, gun in hand, he sought a spot

Where stores of game were breeding,
And there ere long a cat he shot

That on young birds was feeding.

This cat he fancied was a hare,

Forming a judgment hasty,
So served it up for people's fare,

Well-spiced and in a pasty.

Yet many a gues...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Celebrity.

On bridges small and bridges great
Stands Nepomucks in ev'ry state,
Of bronze, wood, painted, or of stone,
Some small as dolls, some giants grown;
Each passer must worship before Nepomuck,
Who to die on a bridge chanced to have the ill luck,
When once a man with head and ears
A saint in people's eyes appears,
Or has been sentenced piteously
Beneath the hangman's hand to die,
He's as a noted person prized,
In portrait is immortalized.
Engravings, woodcuts, are supplied,
And through the world spread far and wide.
Upon them all is seen his name,
And ev'ry one admits his claim;
Even the image of the Lord
Is not with greater zeal ador'd.
Strange fancy of the human race!
Half sinner frail, half child of grace
We see HERR WERTHER of the story

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Charade.

Two words there 'are, both short, of beauty rare,

Whose sounds our lips so often love to frame,

But which with clearness never can proclaim
The things whose own peculiar stamp they bear.

'Tis well in days of age and youth so fair,

One on the other boldly to inflame;

And if those words together link'd we name,
A blissful rapture we discover there.

But now to give them pleasure do I seek,

And in myself my happiness would find;

I hope in silence, but I hope for this:

Gently, as loved one's names, those words to speak

To see them both within one image shrin'd,

Both in one being to embrace with bliss.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chorus Of Angels.

Christ is arisen!

Mortal, all hail!
Thou, of Earth's prison

Dreary and frail,
Bursting the veil,

Proudly hast risen!

CHORUS OF WOMEN.

Rich spices and myrrh,

To embalm Him we brought;
His corpse to inter

His true followers sought.
In pure cerements shrin'd,

'Twas placed in the bier
But, alas! we now find

That Christ is not here.

CHORUS OF ANGELS.

Christ is arisen!

Speechless His love.
Who to Earth's prison

Came from above,
Trials to prove.

Now is He risen!

CHORUS OF YOUTHS.

Death's gloomy portal

Now hath He rended,
Living, immortal,

Heavenward ascended;
Freed from His anguish,

Sees He God's...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chorus Of Spirits.

Vanish, dark clouds on high,

Offspring of night!
Let a more radiant beam
Through the blue ether gleam,

Charming the sight!
Would the dark clouds on high

Melt into air!
Stars glimmer tenderly,

Planets more fair

Shed their soft light.
Spirits of heav'nly birth,
Fairer than sons of earth,
Quivering emotions true

Hover above;
Yearning affections, too,

In their train move.
See how the spirit-band,
By the soft breezes fann'd,
Covers the smiling land,
Covers the leafy grove,
Where happy lovers rove,
Deep in a dream of love,
True love that never dies!
Bowers on bowers rise,

Soft tendrils twine;
While from the press escapes,
Born of the juicy grapes,

Foaming, th...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Christel.

My senses ofttimes are oppress'd,

Oft stagnant is my blood;
But when by Christel's sight I'm blest,

I feel my strength renew'd.
I see her here, I see her there,

And really cannot tell
The manner how, the when, the where,

The why I love her well.

If with the merest glance I view

Her black and roguish eyes,
And gaze on her black eyebrows too,

My spirit upward flies.
Has any one a mouth so sweet,

Such love-round cheeks as she?
Ah, when the eye her beauties meet,

It ne'er content can be.

And when in airy German dance

I clasp her form divine,
So quick we whirl, so quick advance,

What rapture then like mine!
And when she's giddy, and feels warm,

I cradle her, poor ...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chuld Name. - Book Of Paradise. The Favoured Beasts.

Or beasts there have been chosen four

To come to Paradise,
And there with saints for evermore

They dwell in happy wise.

Amongst them all the Ass stands first;

He comes with joyous stride,
For to the Prophet-City erst

Did Jesus on him ride.

Half timid next a Wolf doth creep,

To whom Mahomet spake
"Spoil not the poor man of his sheep,

The rich man's thou mayst take."

And then the brave and faithful Hound,

Who by his master kept,
And slept with him the slumbers sound

The seven sleepers slept.

Abuherrira's Cat, too, here,

Purrs round his master blest,
For holy must the beast appear

The Prophet hath caress'd.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chuld Name. - Book Of Paradise. The Privileged Men.

AFTER THE BATTLE OF BADE, BENEATH THE CANOPY OF HEAVEN.


MAHOMET (Speaks).

Let the foeman sorrow o'er his dead,

Ne'er will they return again to light;
O'er our brethren let no tear be shed,

For they dwell above yon spheres so bright.

All the seven planets open throw

All their metal doors with mighty shock,
And the forms of those we loved below

At the gates of Eden boldly knock.

There they find, with bliss ne'er dream'd before,

Glories that my flight first show'd to eye,
When the wondrous steed my person bore

In one second through the realms on high.

Wisdom's trees, in cypress-order growing,

High uphold the golden apples sweet;
Trees of life, their spreading shadows throwing,

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Chuld Name. - Book Of Paradise. The Seven Sleepers.

Six among the courtiers favour'd
Fly before the Caesar's fury,
Who would as a god be worshipp'd,
Though in truth no god appearing,
For a fly prevents him ever
From enjoying food at table.
Though with fans his servants scare it,
They the fly can never banish.
It torments him, stings, and troubles,
And the festal board perplexes,
Then returning like the herald
Of the olden crafty Fly-God.
"What!" the striplings say together
"Shall a fly a god embarrass?

Shall a god drink, eat at table,
Like us mortals? No, the Only,
Who the sun and moon created,
And the glowing stars arch'd o'er us,
He is God, we'll fly!" The gentle,
Lightly shod, and dainty striplings
Did a shepherd meet, and hide them,
With himself, within a cavern.

An...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Comfort In Tears.

How happens it that thou art sad,

While happy all appear?
Thine eye proclaims too well that thou

Hast wept full many a tear.

"If I have wept in solitude,

None other shares my grief,
And tears to me sweet balsam are,

And give my heart relief."

Thy happy friends invite thee now,

Oh come, then, to our breast!
And let the loss thou hast sustain'd

Be there to us confess'd!

"Ye shout, torment me, knowing not

What 'tis afflicteth me;
Ah no! I have sustained no loss,

Whate'er may wanting be."

If so it is, arise in haste!

Thou'rt young and full of life.
At years like thine, man's blest with strength.

And courage for the strife.

"Ah no! in vain 'twould be to str...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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 glo...

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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