Distichs

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Distichs

CHORDS are touch'd by Apollo,--the death-laden bow, too, he bendeth;

While he the shepherdess charms, Python he lays in the dust.
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WHAT is merciful censure? To make thy faults appear smaller?

May be to veil them? No, no! O'er them to raise thee on high!
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DEMOCRATIC food soon cloys on the multitude's stomach;
But I'll wager, ere long, other thou'lt give them instead.
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WHAT in France has pass'd by, the Germans continue to practise,

For the proudest of men flatters the people and fawns.
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WHO is the happiest of men? He who values the merits of others,
And in their pleasure takes joy, even as though 'twere his own.
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NOT in the morning alone, not only at mid-day he charmeth;

Even at setting, the sun is still the same glorious planet.

Content of Distichs
-THE END-
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's poem collection: Antiques

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