Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

(28 August 1749 – 22 March 1832 / Frankfurt am Main)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Poems

1. The Wrangler 1/1/2004
2. Three Palinodias - 01 1/1/2004
3. The Prosperous Voyage 1/1/2004
4. The New Amadis 1/1/2004
5. To The Husbandman 1/1/2004
6. The Pariah - The Pariah's Thanks 1/1/2004
7. The Way To Behave 1/1/2004
8. The Walking Bell 1/1/2004
9. The Freebooter 4/5/2010
10. The Spirit's Salute 1/1/2004
11. The Maid Of The Mill's Treachery 4/5/2010
12. The Maiden Speaks 4/5/2010
13. To My Friend - Ode Ii 1/1/2004
14. To Mignon 1/1/2004
15. The Same 1/1/2004
16. To The Kind Reader 1/1/2004
17. The Stork's Vocation 1/1/2004
18. The Unequal Marriage 1/1/2004
19. The Pariah - Legend 1/1/2004
20. To The Grasshopper 1/1/2004
21. To Charlotte 1/1/2004
22. To Father Kronos 1/1/2004
23. To Lina 1/1/2004
24. The New Amor 1/1/2004
25. The Pariah - The Pariah's Prayer 1/1/2004
26. The Reckoning 1/1/2004
27. The Muses' Son 1/1/2004
28. To His Coy One 1/1/2004
29. To Lida 1/1/2004
30. The Treasure Digger 1/1/2004
31. The Yelpers 1/1/2004
32. Three Palinodias - 02 Conflict Of Wit And Beauty 1/1/2004
33. Valediction 1/1/2004
34. The Mountain Castle 4/5/2010
35. The Friendly Meeting 4/5/2010
36. The Traveller And The Farm-Maiden 1/1/2004
37. Threatening Signs 1/1/2004
38. The Sea-Voyage 1/1/2004
39. The Spring Oracle 1/1/2004
40. The Originals 1/1/2004
Best Poem of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The Erl-King

1.
WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear?
The father it is, with his infant so dear;
He holdeth the boy tightly clasp'd in his arm,
He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm.

"My son, wherefore seek'st thou thy face thus to hide?"
"Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our side!
Dost see not the Erl-King, with crown and with train?"
"My son, 'tis the mist rising over the plain."

"Oh, come, thou dear infant! oh come thou with me!
Full many a game I will play there with thee;
On my strand, lovely flowers their blossoms unfold,
My ...

Read the full of The Erl-King

Living Remembrance

HALF vex'd, half pleased, thy love will feel,
Shouldst thou her knot or ribbon steal;
To thee they're much--I won't conceal;

Such self-deceit may pardon'd be;
A veil, a kerchief, garter, rings,
In truth are no mean trifling things,

But still they're not enough for me.

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