Epic Poetry

"Such paper, stead of gold and jewelry, So handy is — one know's one's property: One has no need of bargains or exchanges, But drinks of love or wine, as fancy ranges. If one needs coin, the brokers ready stand, And if it fail, one digs awhile the land. Goblet and chain one then at auction sells, And paper, liquidated thus, compels The shame of doubters and their scornful wit. The people wish naught else; they're used to it: From this time forth, your borders, far and wide, With jewels, gold, and paper are supplied."

"Bin ich doch noch so jung, so jung! Und soll schon sterben! Schön war ich auch, und das war mein Verderben."

"Wer hat dir Henker diese Macht Über mich gegeben! Du holst mich schon um Mitternacht."

"Wie seltsam glimmert durch die Gründe Ein morgenrötlich trüber Schein! Und selbst bis in die tiefen Schlünde Des Abgrunds wittert er hinein."

"Meine Ruh' ist hin, Mein Herz ist schwer; Ich finde sie nimmer und nimmermehr."

"Hör’! merk’ dir dieß— Ich bitte dich, und schone meine Lunge— Wer Recht behalten will und hat nur eine Zunge, Behält’s gewiß."

"Beim Himmel, dieses Kind ist schön! So etwas hab ich nie gesehn. Sie ist so sitt—und tugendreich, Und etwas schnippisch doch zugleich. Der Lippe Rot, der Wange Licht, Die Tage der Welt vergeß ich's nicht!"

"Ein echter deutscher Mann mag keinen Franzen leiden, Doch ihre Weine trinkt er gern."

"Grau, teurer Freund, ist alle Theorie, Und grün des Lebens goldner Baum."

"Blut ist ein ganz besondrer Saft."

"Verachte nur Vernunft und Wissenschaft, Des Menschen allerhöchste Kraft, Laß nur in Blend- und Zauberwerken Dich von dem Lügengeist bestärken So hab’ ich dich schon unbedingt – Ihm hat das Schicksal einen Geist gegeben, Der ungebändigt immer vorwärts dringt, Und dessen übereiltes Streben Der Erde Freuden überspringt. Den schlepp’ ich durch das wilde Leben, Durch flache Unbedeutenheit, Er soll mir zappeln, starren, kleben, Und seiner Unersättlichkeit Soll Speis’ und Trank vor gier’gen Lippen schweben; Er wird Erquickung sich umsonst erflehn, Und hätt’ er sich auch nicht dem Teufel übergeben, Er müßte doch zu Grunde gehn!"

"Und Schlag auf Schlag! Werd ich zum Augenblicke sagen: Verweile doch! du bist so schön! Dann magst du mich in Fesseln schlagen, Dann will ich gern zugrunde gehn! Dann mag die Totenglocke schallen, Dann bist du deines Dienstes frei, Die Uhr mag stehn, der Zeiger fallen, Es sei die Zeit für mich vorbei!"

"Allwissend bin ich nicht; doch viel ist mir bewußt."

"Und doch ist nie der Tod ein ganz willkommner Gast."

"Ich wußte nicht ihr beizukommen Mit Wellen, Stürmen, Schütteln, Brand— Geruhig bleibt am Ende Meer und Land!"

"Ich bin der Geist der stets verneint!"

"Ein Teil von jener Kraft, Die stets das Böse will und stets das Gute schafft."

"Das also war des Pudels Kern! Ein fahrender Skolast? Der Kasus macht mich lachen."

"Du bist dir nur des einen Triebs bewußt, O lerne nie den andern kennen! Zwei Seelen wohnen, ach! in meiner Brust, Die eine will sich von der andern trennen; Die eine hält, in derber Liebeslust, Sich an die Welt, mit klammernden Organen; Die andre hebt gewaltsam sich vom Dust, Zu den Gefilden hoher Ahnen. O giebt es Geister in der Luft, Die zwischen Erd' und Himmel herrschend weben, So steiget nieder aus dem goldnen Duft Und führt mich weg, zu neuem buntem Leben! Ja, wäre nur ein Zaubermantel mein! Und trüg' er mich in fremde Länder, Mir sollt' er, um die köstlichsten Gewänder, Nicht feil um einen Königsmantel sein."

"Welch ein Gefühl mußt du, o großer Mann, Bei der Verehrung dieser Menge haben!"

"Was sucht ihr, mächtig und gelind, Ihr Himmelstöne mich am Staube? [. . .] Die Botschaft hör’ ich wohl, allein mir fehlt der Glaube"

"Was du ererbt von deinen Vätern hast Erwirb es, um es zu besitzen."

"Erquickung hast du nicht gewonnen, Wenn sie dir nicht aus eigner Seele quillt."

"Wenn ihr's nicht fühlt, ihr werdet's nicht erjagen, Wenn es nicht aus der Seele dringt Und mit urkräftigem Behagen Die Herzen aller Hörer zwingt."

"Welch Schauspiel! aber ach! ein Schauspiel nur!"

"Bin ich ein Gott? Mir wird so licht!"

"Daß ich erkenne, was die Welt Im Innersten zusammenhält, Schau alle Wirkenskraft und Samen, Und tu nicht mehr in Worten kramen."

"Habe nun, ach! Philosophie, Juristerei und Medizin, Und leider auch Theologie Durchaus studiert, mit heißem Bemühn. Da steh ich nun, ich armer Tor! Und bin so klug als wie zuvor;"

"Es irrt der Mensch so lang er strebt."

"Der Herr: Kennst du den Faust? Mephistopheles: Den Doktor? Der Herr: Meinen Knecht! Mephistopheles: Fürwahr! er dient Euch auf besondre Weise. Nicht irdisch ist des Toren Trank noch Speise. Ihn treibt die Gärung in die Ferne, Er ist sich seiner Tollheit halb bewußt; Vom Himmel fordert er die schönsten Sterne Und von der Erde jede höchste Lust, Und alle Näh und alle Ferne Befriedigt nicht die tiefbewegte Brust. Der Herr:Wenn er mir auch nur verworren dient, So werd ich ihn bald in die Klarheit führen. Weiß doch der Gärtner, wenn das Bäumchen grünt, Das Blüt und Frucht die künft'gen Jahre zieren."

"Das Alter macht nicht kindisch, wie man spricht, Es findet uns nur noch als wahre Kinder."

"Was glänzt ist für den Augenblick geboren, Das Echte bleibt der Nachwelt unverloren."

": Alles Vergängliche Ist nur ein Gleichnis; Das Unzulängliche, Hier wird's Ereignis; Das Unbeschreibliche, Hier ist's getan; Das Ewig-Weibliche Zieht uns hinan."

"Goethe seems to have taken from Kalidasa the idea of a prologue for Faust."

"I have always been of the opinion that world-significance ought to be attributed to the idea of Faust. Just as our forefathers had a goddess of longing, so, in my opinion, Faust is no doubt personified. More he should not be, and it certainly is a sin against the idea when Goethe allows Faust to be converted in the same way as Mèrimèe lets Don Juan be converted. Do not raise the objection that the moment Faust addressed himself to the devil he made a positive step, for right here, it seems to me, is one of the most profound elements in the Faust legend. He approached the devil for the express purpose of becoming enlightened on things about which he was previously unenlightened, and precisely because he addressed himself to the devil, his doubt increased (just as a sick man falling into the hands of a quack is likely to get even worse.) Admittedly Mephistopheles let him look through his spectacles into the hidden secrets of man and the world, but Faust could still not avoid having doubts about him, for he could never enlighten him about the most profound intellectual matters. In accordance with his idea he could never turn to God, for once he did that, he would have to say to himself that here was the true enlightenment, and at the same moment he would, in fact, deny his character as a doubter."

"I would consider still another case, that of an individual who by being hidden and by his silence would save the universal. To this end I make use of the legend of Faust. Faust is a doubter, ("If one would prefer not to make use of a doubter, one might choose a similar figure, an ironist, for example, whose sharp sight has discovered fundamentally the ludicrousness of existence, who by a secret understanding with the forces of life ascertains what the patient wishes. He knows that he possesses the power of laughter if he would use it, he is sure of his victory, yea, also of his good fortune. He knows that an individual voice will be raised in resistance, but he knows that he is stronger, he knows that for an instant one still can cause men to seem serious, but he knows also that privately they long to laugh with him; he knows that for an instant one can still cause a woman to hold a fan before her eyes when he talks, but he knows that she is laughing behind the fan, that the fan is not absolutely impervious to vision, he knows that one can write on it an invisible inscription, he knows that when a woman strikes at him with her fan it is because she has understood him, he knows without the least danger of deception how laughter sneaks in, and how when once it has taken up its lodging it lies in ambush and waits."

"I will go with you, As man with God has gone, And wander with a wandering star, The wandering heart of things that are, The fiery cross of love and war That like yourself, goes on."

"Therefore I bring these rhymes to you Who brought the cross to me, Since on you flaming without flaw I saw the sign that Guthrum saw When he let break his ships of awe, And laid peace on the sea."

"Lady, by one light only We look from Alfred's eyes, We know he saw athwart the wreck The sign that hangs about your neck, Where One more than Melchizedek Is dead and never dies."

"Yet Alfred is no fairy tale; His days as our days ran, He also looked forth for an hour On peopled plains and skies that lower, From those few windows in the tower That is the head of a man."

"Of great limbs gone to chaos, A great face turned to night — Why bend above a shapeless shroud Seeking in such archaic cloud Sight of strong lords and light?"

"In cloud of clay so cast to heaven What shape shall man discern? These lords may light the mystery Of mastery or victory, And these ride high in history, But these shall not return."

"Several books I purchased on my trip, among them G. K. Chesterton's The Ballad of the White Horse. Ever read it? It's great."

"In its fundamental conception, as well as in many of the significant details of its working out, Lord of the Rings is heavily indebted to G. K. Chesterton's now little read poem of 1911, The Ballad of the White Horse. The major theme of both works is the war and eventual victory, despite all odds, of an alliance of good folk against vastly more powerful forces of evil, and the return of a king to his rightful state. Like Lord of the Rings, Chesterton's poem is set in a heroic society after the decay of a highly civilized imperial power — in England, that is to say, in the aftermath of the Roman Empire. (Tolkien's Minas Tirith, built on seven levels, greatly resembles a medieval idealization of Rome.) King Alfred, its hero, is fighting a losing war to save his kingdom from complete conquest by the Danes. As one would expect with Chesterton, it is a war of white against black, of Christianity against a diabolical paganism that has defeated Rome and is now trying to make all good men its slaves. … The enemy is not simply Danes, or barbarians in general, but a wholly malignant and almost irresistible force that stands behind all the enemies of Christianity: This power blights everything it touches — there are repeated references to its distorting effects even on the natural world — and the men who serve it become like Tolkien's Orcs. … To fight against this menace, Alfred, hiding in exile, summons three kindreds of free, Christian peoples as allies. Alfred himself, like Tolkien's Aragorn, is an idealized heroic figure who roams around in humble disguise and is sometimes mistreated by the ignorant. Instead of Dwarves, Elves, and Men of Numenorean descent, he leads an alliance of Saxons, Celts, and Romans."

"Loud was the war on London wall, And loud in London gates, And loud the sea-kings in the cloud Broke through their dreaming gods, and loud Cried on their dreadful Fates. And all the while on White Horse Hill The horse lay long and wan, The turf crawled and the fungus crept, And the little sorrel, while all men slept, Unwrought the work of man. With velvet finger, velvet foot, The fierce soft mosses then Crept on the large white commonweal All folk had striven to strip and peel, And the grass, like a great green witch's wheel, Unwound the toils of men. And clover and silent thistle throve, And buds burst silently, With little care for the Thames Valley Or what things there might be— That away on the widening river, In the eastern plains for crown Stood up in the pale purple sky One turret of smoke like ivory; And the smoke changed and the wind went by, And the King took London Town."

"In mighty and doubtful fragments, Like faint or fabled wars, Climbed the old hills of his renown, Where the bald brow of White Horse Down Is close to the cold stars."

"By God and man dishonoured, By death and life made vain, Know ye the old barbarian, The barbarian come again— "When is great talk of trend and tide, And wisdom and destiny, Hail that undying heathen That is sadder than the sea. "In what wise men shall smite him, Or the Cross stand up again, Or charity or chivalry, My vision saith not; and I see No more; but now ride doubtfully To the battle of the plain."

"By all men bond to Nothing, Being slaves without a lord, By one blind idiot world obeyed, Too blind to be abhorred"

"What though they come with scroll and pen, And grave as a shaven clerk, By this sign you shall know them, That they ruin and make dark"

""Yea, this shall be the sign of them, The sign of the dying fire; And Man made like a half-wit, That knows not of his sire."