The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres · Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
1803.* ----- COPTIC SONG.
LEAVE we the pedants to quarrel and strive, Rigid and cautious the teachers to be! All of the wisest men e'er seen alive Smile, nod, and join in the chorus with me: "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" Merlin the old, from his glittering grave, When I, a stripling, once spoke to him,--gave Just the same answer as that I've preferr'd; "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" And on the Indian breeze as it booms, And in the depths of Egyptian tombs, Only the same holy saying I've heard: "Vain 'tis to wait till the dolt grows less silly! Play then the fool with the fool, willy-nilly,-- Children of wisdom,--remember the word!" Go! obedient to my call, Turn to profit thy young days, Wiser make betimes thy breast In Fate's balance as it sways, Seldom is the cock at rest; Thou must either mount, or fall, Thou must either rule and win, Or submissively give in, Triumph, or else yield to clamour: Be the anvil or the hammer.
Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.