The Poems of Goethe Part 130

1819.*

----- IN the Koran with strange delight A peac.o.c.k's feather met my sight: Thou'rt welcome in this holy place, The highest prize on earth's wide face!

As in the stars of heaven, in thee, G.o.d's greatness in the small we see; For he whose gaze whole worlds bath bless'd His eye hath even here impress'd, And the light down in beauty dress'd, So that e'en monarchs cannot hope In splendour with the bird to cope.

Meekly enjoy thy happy lot, And so deserve that holy spot!

1815.

----- ALL kinds of men, both small and great, A fine-spun web delight to create, And in the middle they take their place, And wield their scissors with wondrous grace.

But if a besom should sweep that way: "What a most shameful thing," they say,-- "They've crush'd a mighty palace to-day."

1815.

----- IT IS GOOD.

IN Paradise while moonbeams play'd,

Jehovah found, in slumber deep, Adam fast sunk; He gently laid

Eve near him,--she, too, fell asleep.

There lay they now, on earth's fair shrine, G.o.d's two most beauteous thoughts divine.-- When this He saw, He cried:--'Tis Good!!!

And scarce could move from where He stood.

No wonder, that our joy's complete While eye and eye responsive meet, When this blest thought of rapture moves us-- That we're with Him who truly loves us, And if He cries:--Good, let it be!

'Tis so for both, it seems to me.

Thou'rt clasp'd within these arms of mine, Dearest of all G.o.d's thoughts divine!

1815.

----- XI. PARIS NAME.

BOOK OF THE Pa.r.s.eES.

THE BEQUEST OF THE ANCIENT PERSIAN FAITH.

BRETHREN, what bequest to you should come From the lowly poor man, going home, Whom ye younger ones with patience tended, Whose last days ye honour'd and defended?

When we oft have seen the monarch ride, Gold upon him, gold on ev'ry side; Jewels on him, on his courtiers all, Thickly strewed as hailstones when they fall,

Have ye e'er known envy at the sight?

And not felt your gaze become more bright, When the sun was, on the wings of morning, Darnawend's unnumber'd peaks adorning,

As he, bow-like, rose? How each eye dwelt On the glorious scene! I felt, I felt, Thousand times, as life's days fleeted by, Borne with him, the coming one, on high.

G.o.d upon His throne then to proclaim, Him, the life-fount's mighty Lord, to name, Worthily to prize that glorious sight, And to wander on beneath His light.

When the fiery orb was all defined, There I stood, as though in darkness, blind, Beat my breast, my quicken'd members threw On the earth, brow-foremost, at the view.

Let this holy, great bequest reward Brotherly good-will and kind regard: SOLEMN DUTY'S DAILY observation.-- More than this, it needs no revelation.

If its gentle hands a new-born one Move, then straightway turn it tow'rd the sun,-- Soul and body dip in bath of fire!

Then each morning's favour 'twill acquire.

To the living one, commit the dead, O'er the beast let earth and dust be spread, And, so far as may extend your might, What ye deem impure, conceal from sight.

Till your plains to graceful purity, That the sun with joy your labours see; When ye plant, your trees in rows contrive, For he makes the Regular to thrive.

E'en the floods that through the channel rush Must not fail in fulness or in gush; And as Senderud, from mountain high, Rises pure, in pureness must it die.

Not to weaken water's gentle fall, Carefully cleanse out the channels all; Salamander, snake, and rush, and reed,-- All destroy,--each monster and each weed.

If thus pure ye earth and water keep, Through the air the sun will gladly peep, Where he, worthily enshrined in s.p.a.ce, Worketh life, to life gives holy grace.

Ye, by toil on toil so sorely tried, Comfort take, the All is purified; And now man, as priest, may boldly dare From the stone G.o.d's image to prepare.

When the flame burns joyously and bright, Limbs are supple, radiant is the night; On the hearth when fire with ardour glows, Ripe the sap of plants and creatures grows.

Dragging wood, with rapture be it done, 'Tis the seed of many an earthly sun; Plucking Pambeh, gladly may ye say:-- This, as wick, the Holy will convey.

If ye meekly, in each burning lamp, See the n.o.bler light's resplendent stamp, Ne'er will Fate prevent you, void of feeling, At G.o.d's throne at morningtide from kneeling.

This is Being's mighty signet, then, G.o.d's pure gla.s.s to angels and to men; Each word lisped the Highest's praise to sound, Ring in ring, united there is found.

From the sh.o.r.e of Senderud ascendeth, Up to Darnawend its pinions bendeth, As He dawns, with joy to greet His light, You with endless blessings to requite.

1819.*

----- XII. CHULD NAME.

BOOK OF PARADISE.

THE PRIVILEGED MEN.

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

[This battle was fought in the second year of the Hegira (A.A.

623), between the followers of Mahomet, who numbered three hundred and thirteen, possessing two horses and seventy camels, and the 'idolaters,' or Meccans, whose forces amounted to nine hundred and fifty, including two hundred cavalry. The victory remained with Mahomet, who lost fourteen men, while seventy of the enemy were slain. A great accession of strength ensued in consequence to the Prophet, who pretended that miracles were wrought in his behalf in the battle, G.o.d having sent angels to fight on his side, and having also made his army to appear larger to the enemy than it really was.--See the Koran, chapter viii., and ABULFEDA'S Life of Mahomet.]

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,