Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/363

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POEMS OF GOETHE
329

HOLY FAMILY.

O child of beauty rare—
O mother chaste and fair—
How happy seemed they both, so far beyond compare!
She in her infant blest,
And he in conscious rest,
Nestling within the soft warm cradle of her breast!
What joy that sight might bear
To him who sees them there,
If, with a pure and guilt-untroubled eye,
He looked upon the twain, like Joseph standing by.


THE MUSES' MIRROR.

Early one day, the Muse, when eagerly bent on adornment,
Followed a swift-running streamlet, the quietest nook by it seeking.
Quickly and noisily flowing, the changeful surface distorted
Ever her moving form; the goddess departed in anger.
Yet the stream called mockingly after her, saying: "What, truly!
Wilt thou not view, then, the truth, in my mirror so clearly depicted?"
But she already was far away, on the brink of the ocean,
In her figure rejoicing, and duly arranging her garland.


THE TEACHERS.

What time Diogenes, unmoved and still,
Lay in his tub, and basked him in the sun—
What time Calanus clomb, with lightsome step

And smiling cheek, up to his fiery tomb—