← The Poems of Goethe, Translated in the Original Metres
Chapter 12
The Merry Counsel
The Contented.
Manifold is human strife,
Human passion, human pain;
Many a blessing yet is rife,
Many pleasures still remain.
Yet the greatest bliss in life,
And the richest prize we find,
Is a good, contented mind.
He by whom man's foolish will
Is each day review'd and blamed,
Who, when others fools are still,
Is himself a fool proclaim'd,—
Ne'er at mill was beast's back press'd
With a heavier load than he.
What I feel within my breast
That in truth's the thing for me!
1789. ——- DIFFERENT EMOTIONS ON THE SAME SPOT.