Why to the window go?
While gazing down below, Art standing vainly there?
Oh, if thou stood'st for me, And lett'st the latch but fly,
How happy should I be!
How soon would I leap high!
1789.*
----- TO HIS COY ONE.
SEEST thou yon smiling Orange?
Upon the tree still hangs it; Already March bath vanish'd, And new-born flow'rs are shooting.
I draw nigh to the tree then, And there I say: Oh Orange, Thou ripe and juicy Orange, Thou sweet and luscious Orange, I shake the tree, I shake it, Oh fall into my lap!
1789.*
----- NIGHT THOUGHTS.
OH, unhappy stars! your fate I mourn,
Ye by whom the sea-toss'd sailor's lighted, Who with radiant beams the heav'ns adorn,
But by G.o.ds and men are unrequited: For ye love not,--ne'er have learnt to love!
Ceaselessly in endless dance ye move, In the s.p.a.cious sky your charms displaying,
What far travels ye have hasten'd through, Since, within my loved one's arms delaying,
I've forgotten you and midnight too!
1789.*
----- TO LIDA.
THE only one whom, Lida, thou canst love,
Thou claim'st, and rightly claim'st, for only thee; He too is wholly thine; since doomed to rove
Far from thee, in life's turmoils nought I see Save a thin veil, through which thy form I view, As though in clouds; with kindly smile and true,
It cheers me, like the stars eterne that gleam Across the northern-lights' far-flick'ring beam.
1789.*
----- PROXIMITY.
I KNOW not, wherefore, dearest love,
Thou often art so strange and coy When 'mongst man's busy haunts we move,
Thy coldness puts to flight my joy.
But soon as night and silence round us reign, I know thee by thy kisses sweet again!
1789.*
----- RECIPROCAL.
MY mistress, where sits she?
What is it that charms?
The absent she's rocking,
Held fast in her arms.
In pretty cage prison'd
She holds a bird still; Yet lets him fly from her,
Whenever he will.
He pecks at her finger,
And pecks at her lips, And hovers and flutters,
And round her he skips.
Then hasten thou homeward,
In fashion to be; If thou hast the maiden,
She also hath thee.
1816.
----- ROLLICKING HANS.
HALLO there! A gla.s.s!
Ha! the draught's truly sweet!
If for drink go my shoes,
I shall still have my feet.
A maiden and wine,
With sweet music and song,-- I would they were mine,
All life's journey along!
If I depart from this sad sphere, And leave a will behind me here, A suit at law will be preferr'd, But as for thanks,--the deuce a word!
So ere I die, I squander all, And that a proper will I call.
HIS COMRADE.