Friedrich Schiller

Friedrich Schiller Poems

  • 151.  
    Sure of the spring that warms them into birth,
    The golden seeds thou trustest to the earth; And dost thou doubt the eternal spring sublime,
  • 152.  
    Scarce has the fever so chilly of Gallomania departed,
    When a more burning attack in Grecomania breaks out. Greekism,--what did it mean?--'Twas harmony, reason, and clearness!
  • 153.  
    I have a heartfelt aversion for crime,--a twofold aversion,
    Since 'tis the reason why man prates about virtue so much."What! thou hatest, then, virtue?"--I would that by all it were practised,
  • 154.  
    Woman, never judge man by his individual actions;
    But upon man as a whole, pass thy decisive decree.
  • 155.  
    Thee would I choose as my teacher and friend. Thy living example
    Teaches me,--thy teaching word wakens my heart unto life.
  • 156.  
    Where sails the ship?--It leads the Tyrian forth
    For the rich amber of the liberal north. Be kind, ye seas--winds, lend your gentlest wing,
  • 157.  
    Through the world which the Spirit creative and kind
    First formed out of chaos, I fly like the wind,Until on the strand
  • 158.  
    Within a vale, each infant year,
    When earliest larks first carol free, To humble shepherds cloth appear
  • 159.  
    If thou anything hast, let me have it,--I'll pay what is proper;
    If thou anything art, let us our spirits exchange.
  • 160.  
    Does pleasant spring return once more?
    Does earth her happy youth regain?Sweet suns green hills are shining o'er;
  • 161.  
    Do I dream? can I trust to my eye?
    My sight sure some vapor must cover?Or, there, did my Minna pass by--
  • 162.  
    Tear forever the garland of Homer, and number the fathers
    Of the immortal work, that through all time will survive!Yet it has but one mother, and bears that mother's own feature,
  • 163.  
    Enraged against a quondam friend,
    To Wisdom once proud Fortune said"I'll give thee treasures without end,
Total 163 poems written by Friedrich Schiller

Poem of the day

Charles Hamilton Sorley Poem
The Song Of The Ungirt Runners
 by Charles Hamilton Sorley

We swing ungirded hips,
And lightened are our eyes,
The rain is on our lips,
We do not run for prize.
We know not whom we trust
Nor whitherward we fare,
But we run because we must
Through the great wide air.

Read complete poem

Popular Poets