How plain and heightWith dewdrops are bright!How pearls have crown'dThe plants all around!How sighs the breezeThro' thicket and trees!How loudly in the sun's clear raysThe sweet birds carol forth their lays!
Is ne'er kept clean and neat.-----BLESS, thou dread Creator,
In Fate's balance as it sways,
THESE are the most singular of all the Poems of Goethe, and tomany will appear so wild and fantastic, as to leave anything buta pleasing impression. Those at the beginning, addressed to hisfriend Behrisch, were written at the age of eighteen, and most ofthe remainder were composed while he was still quite young.Despite, however, the extravagance of some of them, such as theWinter Journey over the Hartz Mountains, and the Wanderer'sStorm-Song, nothing can be finer than the noble one entitledMahomet's Song, and others, such as the Spirit Song' over theWaters, The God-like, and, above all, the magnificent sketch ofPrometheus, which forms part of an unfinished piece bearing thesame name, and called by Goethe a 'Dramatic Fragment.'
And advancing clouds I view;Chords not only grace the lyre,
THE soul of manResembleth water:From heaven it cometh,To heaven it soareth.And then againTo earth descendeth,Changing ever.
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And not bestowed one thought upon her."
The lances of our foes.Or give it to thy chancellor there;With other burdens he may bear
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