Friedrich Schiller

(10 November 1759 – 9 May 1805 / Marbach, Württemberg)

Friedrich Schiller Poems

41. Light And Warmth 1/1/2004
42. Longing 1/1/2004
43. Love And Desire 1/1/2004
44. Majestas Populi 1/1/2004
45. Melancholy -- To Laura 1/1/2004
46. My Antipathy 1/1/2004
47. My Faith 1/1/2004
48. Nadowessian Death-Lament 1/1/2004
49. Naenia 1/1/2004
50. Ode An Die Freude 4/7/2010
51. Ode To Joy 4/7/2010
52. Odysseus 1/1/2004
53. Parables And Riddles 1/1/2004
54. Participation 1/1/2004
55. Political Precept 1/1/2004
56. Pompeii And Herculaneum 1/1/2004
57. Punch Song 1/1/2004
58. Punch Song (To Be Sung In The Northern Countries) 1/1/2004
59. Rapture -- To Laura 1/1/2004
60. Resignation 4/7/2010
61. Rousseau 1/1/2004
62. Shakespeare's Ghost - A Parody 1/1/2004
63. The Agreement 1/1/2004
64. The Alpine Hunter 1/1/2004
65. The Animating Principle 1/1/2004
66. The Antique To The Northern Wanderer 1/1/2004
67. The Antiques At Paris 1/1/2004
68. The Artists 1/1/2004
69. The Assignation 1/1/2004
70. The Bards Of Olden Time 1/1/2004
71. The Battle 1/1/2004
72. The Best State 1/1/2004
73. The Best State Constitution 1/1/2004
74. The Celebrated Woman - An Epistle By A Married Man 1/1/2004
75. The Circle Of Nature 1/1/2004
76. The Complaint Of Ceres 1/1/2004
77. The Conflict 1/1/2004
78. The Count Of Hapsburg 1/1/2004
79. The Cranes Of Ibycus 1/1/2004
80. The Dance 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Friedrich Schiller

Elysium

Past the despairing wail--
And the bright banquets of the Elysian vale
Melt every care away!
Delight, that breathes and moves forever,
Glides through sweet fields like some sweet river!
Elysian life survey!
There, fresh with youth, o'er jocund meads,
His merry west-winds blithely leads
The ever-blooming May!
Through gold-woven dreams goes the dance of the hours,
In space without bounds swell the soul and its powers,
And truth, with no veil, gives her face to the day.
And joy to-day and joy to-morrow,
But wafts the airy soul aloft;
The very name is...

Read the full of Elysium

Longing

Could I from this valley drear,
Where the mist hangs heavily,
Soar to some more blissful sphere,
Ah! how happy should I be!
Distant hills enchant my sight,
Ever young and ever fair;
To those hills I'd take my flight
Had I wings to scale the air.

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