Friedrich Schiller

“ Henceforth I'll take whatever prize Sage Clotho gives, and asks no more. But never let the shears cut off a rose— Only the thorns,—yet as thou will'st! Let, if thou will'st, the death-shears, sharply close, If thou this single prayer fulfill'st! Oh, goddess! when, enchained to Laura's breath, My spirit from its shell breaks free, Betraying when, upon the gates of death, My youthful life hangs giddily, Let to infinity the thread extend, 'Twill wander through the realms of bliss,— Then, goddess, let thy cruel shears descend! ”

“ And when our throats with a vintage rare We've long enough been supplying, Fresh courage and strength we drink in there, And with the evil one friendship swear, Who down in hell is frying. The groans o'er fathers reft of breath, The sorrowing mothers' cry of death, Deserted brides' sad sobs and tears. Are sweetest music to our ears. Ha! when under the axe each one quivering lies, When they bellow like calves, and fall round us like flies, Naught gives such pleasure to our sight, It fills our ears with wild delight. And when arrives the fatal day The devil straight may fetch us! ”

“ Then comes a frank and merry knave, And spreads it through the land: "Tell them that thou on Carthage's grave Hast seen great Marius stand!" Thus speaks the son of Rome with pride, Still mighty in his fall; He is a man, and naught beside,— Before him tremble all. His grandsons afterwards began Their portions to o'erthrow, And thought it well that every man Should learn with grace to crow. For shame, for shame,—once more for shame! The wretched ones?—they've even Squandered the tokens of their fame, The choicest gifts of heaven. ”

“ Oh, the thought to madness hurries me! Gladly shout the revellers as they quaff, Raptures in the leaf-crowned goblet laugh, Jests within the golden wine have birth, Since the maiden hath enslaved my mind, I have left each youthful sport behind, Friendless roam I o'er the earth. Hear I still bright glory's thunder-tone? Doth the laurel still allure me on? Doth thy lyre, Apollo Cynthius? In my breast no echoes now arise, Every shamefaced muse in sorrow flies,— And thou, too, Apollo Cynthius? Shall I still be, as a woman, tame? ”

“ Oh, thou witch! 'Tis dirt, I vow, That my head salutes! Rain, frost, hunger, tempests wild, Bear I for the devil's child, Now I'm vexed full sore. Worse and worse 'tis! I'll begone. Pray be quick, thou Evil One! I'll remain no more. Pretty tumult there's outside! Fare thee well—I'll homeward stride. THE WINTER NIGHT. Farewell! the beauteous sun is sinking fast, The moon lifts up her head ”

“ Nations are trembling, At his destructive splendor afraid! Thou art welcome! 'Tis ended! Oh thou sinner majestic, All thy terrible part is now played! Crumble,—decay In the cradle of wide-open heaven! Terrible sight to each sinner that breathes, When the hot thirst for glory Raises its barriers over against the dread throne! See! to eternity shame has consigned thee! To the bright stars of fame Thou hast clambered aloft, on the shoulders of shame! Yet time will come when shame will crumble beneath thee, When admiration at length will be thine! ”

“ CHORUS. The man who can look upon death without fear— The soldier,—is now the sole freeman left here. FIRST YAGER. The cares of this life, he casts them away, Untroubled by fear or by sorrow; He rides to his fate with a countenance gay, And finds it to-day or to-morrow; And if 'tis to-morrow, to-day we'll employ To drink full deep of the goblet of joy, CHORUS. And if 'tis to-morrow, to-day we'll employ To drink full deep of the goblet of joy. ”

“ In great perplexity Hell came and asked for Death; "'They can wade through the Styx, Catch crabs in Lethe's flood; Old Charon's in a fix, His boat lies in the mud, "'The dead leap over there, The young and old as well; The boatman gets no fare, And loudly curses hell.' "King Minos bade his spies In all directions go; The devils needs must rise, And bring him news below. ”

“ The kisses of one's dear One does not lightly throw away. They kindle raptures sweet, But fools ne'er know their flame! The gentle Muse will kneel at honor's feet, But cudgels those who mar her fame. THE PEASANTS. 67 Look outside, good friend, I pray! Two whole mortal hours Dogs and I've out here to-day Waited, by the powers! Rain comes down as from a spout, Doomsday-storms rage round about, Dripping are my hose; Drenched are coat and mantle too, Coat and mantle, both just new, Wretched plight, heaven knows! Pretty stir's abroad to-day; Look outside, good friend, I pray! Ay, the devil! ”

“ And not behind the curtain's cunning veil, Where the world's eye is hid by cheating night, And glowing flames the hearts assail, That seemed but chilly in the light,— Where wisdom we surprise with shame-dyed lip, While Phoebus' rays she boldly drinks, Where men, like thievish children, nectar sip, And from the spheres e'en Plato sinks— To ye—to ye, O lonely sister-band, Daughters of destiny, ascend, When o'er the lyre all-gently sweeps my hand, These strains, where bliss and sadness blend. ”

“ He woos not long, and with gold he ne'er buys, But carries by storm love's blissful prize. CHORUS. He woos not long, and with gold he ne'er buys, But carries by storm love's blissful prize. SECOND CUIRASSIER. Why weeps the maiden? Why sorrows she so? Let me hence, let me hence, girl, I pray thee? The soldier on earth no sure quarters can know, With true love he ne'er can repay thee. Fate hurries him onward with fury blind, His peace he never can leave behind. ”

“ Rome o'er Brutus' bier feels her death-throe,— He seeks Minos.—Back to thy dark flood! CAESAR. Oh, the death-stroke Brutus' sword then hurled! Thou, too—Brutus—thou? Could this thing be? Son! It was thy father!—Son! the world Would have fallen heritage to thee! Go—'mongst Romans thou art deemed immortal, For thy steel hath pierced thy father's breast. Go—and shout it even to yon portal: "Brutus is 'mongst Romans deemed immortal, For his steel hath pierced his father's breast." Go—thou knowest now what on Lethe's strand Made me a prisoner stand.— Now, grim steersman, push thy bark from land! ”

“ In the battle the bosom bounds lightly! Youth boils, and life's goblet still foams at the fount, Away! while the spirit glows brightly! Unless ye have courage your life to stake, That life ye never your own can make! CHORUS. Unless ye have courage your life to stake, That life ye never your own can make! ”

“ I try to think in vain, to whom or how Beneath the moon there's nothing of the kind.— I'll show she's like the moon, I vow! The moon—she rouges, steals the sun's bright light, By eating stolen bread her living gets,— Is also wont to paint her cheeks at night, While, with untiring ardor, she coquets. The moon—for this may Herod give her thanks!— Reserves her best till night may have returned; Our lady swallows up by day the francs That she at night-time may have earned. ”

“ To roam o'er earth's round, Lead a wandering life, With steed trained aright, And bold for the fight, With a sword by the side, To rove far and wide,— Quick, nimble, and free As the finch that we see On bushes and trees, Or braving the breeze,— Huzza, then! ”

“ Yon clouds, that tow'rd the south their course direct, France's far-distant ocean seek to win. Swiftly-flying clouds, hardy sailors through air! Mortal hath roamed with ye, sailed with ye, ne'er! Greetings of love to my youthful home bear! I am a prisoner, I am in chains, Ah, not a herald, save ye, now remains, Free through the air hath your path ever been, Ye are not subject to England's proud queen! Yonder's a fisherman trimming his boat. E'en that frail skiff from all danger might tear me, And to the dwellings of friends it might bear me. Scarcely his earnings can keep life afloat. ”

“ Each weapon rests, war's tumults cease to sound, While dance and song succeed the bloody fray; Through every street the merry footsteps bound, Altar and church are clad in bright array, And gates of branches green arise around, Over the columns twine the garlands gay; Rheims cannot hold the ever-swelling train That seeks the nation-festival to gain. All with one joyous feeling are elate, One single thought is thrilling every breast; What, until now, was severed by fierce hate, Is by the general rapture truly blessed. ”

“ And when spring's children smile upon us once again, When all the youthful splendor bright, When each melodious note of each sweet rapturous strain Awakens with it each delight: How joyous then the stream that our whole soul pervades! What life from out our glances pours! ”

“ The peasant, who grubs in the womb of the earth, Believes that he'll find there the treasure, Through lifetime he shovels and digs like a slave, And digs—till at length he has dug his own grave. CHORUS. Through lifetime he shovels and digs like a slave, And digs—till at length he has dug his own grave. ”

“ The fellow we swear by is Mercury, A capital hand at our trade is he. To-day we become the guests of a priest, A rich farmer to-morrow must feed us; And as for the future, we care not the least, But leave it to heaven to heed us. ”

“ For thou to me the one whom I have loved so well, And love with fondness to the grave, Who merits in my heart forevermore to dwell,— The best of friends in Rieger 64 gave. 'Tis true thy breath doth rock the leaves upon the trees, And sadly make their charms decay; Gently they fall:—and swift, as morning phantasies With those who waken, fly away. 'Tis true that on thy track the fleecy spoiler hastes, Who makes all Nature's chords resound With discord dull, and turns the plains and groves to wastes, So that they sadly mourn around. ”

“ God's counterfeit has sinfully Disgraced his form divine, And in his vile humanity Has wallowed like the swine. The face of earth each vainly treads, Like gourds, that boys in sport Have hollowed out to human heads, With skulls, whose brains are—naught. ”

“ All thy tricks are spent and past, To the devil gone at last Like a silly fop thou'lt prate, Like a washerwoman rate. Thou art but a simpleton. Now thou mayest—more shame to thee— Run away, because of me; Cupid, that young rogue, may glory Learning wisdom from thy story; Haste, thou sluggard, hence to flee As from glass is cut our wit, So, like lightning, 'twill be split; If thou won't be chased away, Let each folly also stay Seest my meaning? ”

“ Is it the genius whom the gladsome throng obeys? Do I his numerous train descry? In plenty's teeming horn the gifts of heaven he sways, And reels from very ecstacy!— See how the golden grape in glorious beauty shines, Kissed by the earliest morning-beams! ”

“ Bow and arrow bearing, Over hills and streams Moves the hunter daring, Soon as daylight gleams. As all flying creatures Own the eagle's sway, So the hunter, Nature's Mounts and crags obey. Over space he reigneth, And he makes his prize All his bolt attaineth, All that creeps or flies. ”

“ Many a head that's filled with smoke Thou hast twirled and well-nigh broke, Many a clever one perplexed, Many a stomach sorely vexed, Turning it completely over; Many a hat put on awry, Many a lamb chased cruelly, Made streets, houses, edges, trees, Dance around us fools with ease. Therefore thou are not in clover, Therefore thou, like other folk, Hast thy head filled full of smoke, Therefore thou, too, art perplexed, And thy stomach's sorely vexed, For 'tis turned completely over ”

“ A learned work has just come out— Messias is the name 'twill bear; The man has travelled through the air, And on the sun-beplastered roads Has lost shoe-leather by whole loads,— Has seen the heavens lie open wide, And hell has traversed with whole hide. ”

“ There they fight, manoeuvre, shout, Even to thy throne. "On their steeds they galop hard To the spring to drink, Each one calls himself a bard— Minstrels—only think! "There they—how the thing to name! Would our persons treat— This, without a blush of shame, We can ne'er repeat; "One, in front of all, then cries, 'I the army lead!' Both his fists he wildly plies, Like a bear indeed! ”

“ What, has there e'er escaped a poet? Help, heaven! what misery to know it! "When days are long, folks talk more stuff! Upon your seats, no doubt, With all your cards and music rough, And scribblings too, 'tis hard enough The moments to eke out. Idleness, like a flea will gnaw On velvet cushions,—as on straw. "My brother no attempt omits To drive away ennui; His lightning round about him flits, The target with his storms he hits (Those howls prove that to me) , Till Rhea's trembling shoulders ache, And force me e'en for hell to quake. ”

“ His doctor, versed in sciences, With wig beneath his hat, Argued and showed with wondrous ease, From Celsus and Hippocrates, When he in judgment sat,— "Right worshipful the mayor of hell, The liver's wrong, I see full well." "He's but a booby," Pluto said, "With all his trash and pills! A man like me—pray where's his head? A young man yet—his wits have fled! While youth my veins yet fills! ”

“ Fearfully throbs the anguish-struck heart, Horribly quivers each nerve in the frame; Frenzy's wild laughs the torment proclaim, Howling convulsions disclose the fierce smart. Fierce delirium writhes upon the bed— Poisonous mists hang o'er the cities dead; Men all haggard, pale, and wan, To the shadow-realm press on. Death lies brooding in the humid air, Plague, in dark graves, piles up treasures fair, And its voice exultingly raises. Funeral silence—churchyard calm, Rapture change to dread alarm.— Thus the plague God wildly praises! MONUMENT OF MOOR THE ROBBER. 65 'Tis ended! ”