poet Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

#95 on top 500 poets

The Misanthrope

AT first awhile sits he,

With calm, unruffled brow;
His features then I see,
Distorted hideously,--

An owl's they might be now.

What is it, askest thou?
Is't love, or is't ennui?

'Tis both at once, I vow.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

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Read poems about / on: love