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PLAYING AT PRIESTS. - 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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PLAYING AT PRIESTS.

lf0841-01_figure_092
    • WITHIN a town where parity
    • According to old form we see,—
    • That is to say, where Catholic
    • And Protestant no quarrels pick,
    • And where, as in his father’s day,
    • Each worships God in his own way,
    • We Luth’ran children used to dwell,
    • By songs and sermons taught us well.
    • The Catholic clingclang in truth
    • Sounded more pleasing to our youth,
    • For all that we encounter’d there
    • To us seem’d varied, joyous, fair.
    • As children, monkeys, and mankind
    • To ape each other are inclin’d,
    • We soon, the time to while away,
    • A game at priests resolv’d to play.
    • Their aprons all our sisters lent
    • For copes, which gave us great content;
    • And handkerchiefs, embroider’d o’er,
    • Instead of stoles we also wore;
    • Gold paper, whereon beasts were trac’d,
    • The bishop’s brow as mitre grac’d.
    • Through house and garden thus in state
    • We strutted early, strutted late,
    • Repeating with all proper unction,
    • Incessantly each holy function.
    • The best was wanting to the game;
    • We knew that a sonorous ring
    • Was here a most important thing;
    • But Fortune to our rescue came,
    • For on the ground a halter lay;
    • We were delighted, and at once
    • Made it a bellrope for the nonce,
    • And kept it moving all the day;
    • In turns each sister and each brother
    • Acted as sexton to another;
    • All help’d to swell the joyous throng;
    • The whole proceeded swimmingly,
    • And since no actual bell had we,
    • We all in chorus sang, Ding dong!
    • Our guileless child’s-sport long was hush’d
    • In memory’s tomb, like some old lay;
    • And yet across my mind it rush’d
    • With pristine force the other day.
    • The New-Poetic Catholics
    • In ev’ry point its aptness fix!