Anna Louisa Karsch Poems

I loathe with all my heart the first of men who slew
A human fellow-being when the earth was new.
My spirit shrinks from him who for primeval raids
Made sharp the world's first arrow, honed the first of blades.
...

My young days were oppressed with cares,
On summer mornings I sat there,
Sighing my poor stammered song.
Not for a young man was my melody,
...

The grapevine's luscious fruit has known
The praise of bards in ardent throng;
Why has the cherry not been shown
Loud voices raised in song?
...