She Cannot End (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Poems)
WHEN unto thee I sent the page all white,Instead of first thereon inscribing aught,The space thou doubtless filledst up in ...
WHEN unto thee I sent the page all white,Instead of first thereon inscribing aught,The space thou doubtless filledst up in ...
FRIEND, 'mid the complex and unnumbered creedsWhich meet and jostle on this mortal scene,And sometimes fight a l'outrance, I perceiveSome ...
ADDRESSED TO THE CRITICAL REVIEWERS. Tristitiam et Metus.--HORACE.Laughs not the heart when giants, big with pride,Assume the pompous port, the ...
A Historical Tragedy in Five Acts.This play is dedicated, in profound veneration and respect, to thememory of George Eliot, the ...
I. LINDSAY castle's jutted forth On the wild, old sounding sea,And a gallant race of the hardy North, ...
1. It is still bright night in the Alps, and a cloud, Authoring joyfulness, covers the yawning valley. Playful ...
By love are blest the gods on high,Frail man becomes a deity When love to him is given;'Tis love that ...
Once again within the city, 'mid its multitudinous din, Stand I, while, as sinks a leaf when left by the ...
BENEATH a father's roof two brethren dwelt,And each domestic comfort truly felt;What farther pleasure could their souls require?The happy sons ...
I.Come away! Come away!Flow'rs are fresh, and fields are gay!Spring her early charms discovers;Now the yellow butterfly,Herself a flying primrose, ...
Maybe you are right ; Yet I am not wrong; : The vision of youth is the sense of might. ...
WHEN unto thee I sent the page all white, Instead of first thereon inscribing aught, The space thou doubtless filledst ...
Artist, fashion! talk not long! Be a breath thine only song! THE DROPS OF NECTAR. WHEN Minerva, to give pleasure ...
A green and silent spot, amid the hills, A small and silent dell ! O'er stiller place No singing sky-lark ...
Belov'd of all to whom that Muse is dear Who hid her spirit of rapture from the Greek, Whereby our ...
'Not by the justice that my father spurn'd, Not for the thousands whom my father slew, Altars unfed and temples ...
A wanderer is man from his birth. He was born in a ship On the breast of the river of ...
By love are blest the gods on high, Frail man becomes a deity When love to him is given; 'Tis ...
Glad as the weary traveller tempest-tost To reach secure at length his native coast, Who wandering long o'er distant lands ...
Let dainty wits cry on the sisters nine, That, bravely mask'd, their fancies may be told; Or, Pindar's apes, flaunt ...
Fill the bumper fair! Every drop we sprinkle O'er the brow of Care Smooths away a wrinkle. Wit's electric flame ...
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