The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1789. ----- WHO'LL BUY GODS OF LOVE?
An owl's they might be now. What is it, askest thou? Is't love, or is't ennui? 'Tis both at once, I vow. I ONCE into a forest far My maiden went to seek, And fell upon her neck, when: "Ah!" She threaten'd, "I will shriek!" Then cried I haughtily: "I'll crush The man that dares come near thee!" "Hush!" whisper'd she: "My loved one, hush! Or else they'll overhear thee!" WHAT pleasure to me A bridegroom would be! When married we are, They call us mamma. No need then to sew, To school we ne'er go; Command uncontroll'd, Have maids, whom to scold; Choose clothes at our ease, Of what tradesmen we please; Walk freely about, And go to each rout, And unrestrained are By papa or mamma. IF to a girl who loves us truly Her mother gives instruction duly In virtue, duty, and what not,-- And if she hearkens ne'er a jot, But with fresh-strengthen'd longing flies To meet our kiss that seems to burn,-- Caprice has just as much concerned As love in her bold enterprise. But if her mother can succeed In gaining for her maxims heed, And softening the girl's heart too, So that she coyly shuns our view,-- The heart of youth she knows but ill; For when a maiden is thus stern, Virtue in truth has less concern In this, than an inconstant will.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.