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TABLE SONG. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

Edition used:

Goethe’s Works, illustrated by the best German artists, 5 vols. (Philadelphia: G. Barrie, 1885). Vol. 1.

Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.

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TABLE SONG.

lf0841-01_figure_032
    • O’ER me,—how I cannot say,—
    • Heav’nly rapture’s growing.
    • Will it help to guide my way
    • To yon stars all-glowing?
    • Yet that here I’d sooner be,
    • To assert I’m able,
    • Where, with wine and harmony,
    • I may thump the table.
    • Wonder not, my dearest friends,
    • What ’tis gives me pleasure;
    • For of all that earth e’er lends,
    • ’Tis the sweetest treasure.
    • Therefore solemnly I swear,
    • With no reservation,
    • That maliciously I’ll ne’er
    • Leave my present station.
    • Now that here we’re gather’d round,
    • Chasing cares and slumbers,
    • Let, methought, the goblet sound
    • To the bard’s glad numbers!
    • Many a hundred mile away,
    • Go those we love dearly;
    • Therefore let us here to-day
    • Make the glass ring clearly!
    • Here’s His health, through Whom we live!
    • I that faith inherit.
    • To our king the next toast give,
    • Honor is his merit,
    • ’Gainst each in- and outward foe
    • He’s our rock and tower.
    • Of his maintenance thinks he though,
    • More that grows his power.
    • Next to her good health I drink,
    • Who has stirr’d my passion;
    • Of his mistress let each think,
    • Think in knightly fashion.
    • If the beauteous maid but see
    • Whom ’tis I now call so,
    • Let her smiling nod to me:
    • “Here’s my love’s health also!”
    • To those friends,—the two or three,—
    • Be our next toast given,
    • In whose presence revel we,
    • In the silent even,—
    • Who the gloomy mist so cold
    • Scatter gently, lightly;
    • To those friends, then, new or old,
    • Let the toast ring brightly.
    • Broader now the stream rolls on,
    • With its waves more swelling,
    • While in higher, nobler tone,
    • Comrades, we are dwelling,—
    • We who with collected might,
    • Bravely cling together,
    • Both in fortune’s sunshine bright,
    • And in stormy weather.
    • Just as we are gather’d thus,
    • Others are collected;
    • On them, therefore, as on us,
    • Be Fate’s smile directed!
    • From the springhead to the sea,
    • Many a mill’s revolving,
    • And the world’s prosperity
    • Is the task I’m solving.