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    The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems
    The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems
    The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems
    Ebook74 pages37 minutes

    The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems

    By Friedrich Schiller

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    DigiCat Publishing presents to you this special edition of "The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems" by Friedrich Schiller. DigiCat Publishing considers every written word to be a legacy of humankind. Every DigiCat book has been carefully reproduced for republishing in a new modern format. The books are available in print, as well as ebooks. DigiCat hopes you will treat this work with the acknowledgment and passion it deserves as a classic of world literature.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDigiCat
    Release dateSep 5, 2022
    ISBN8596547235859
    The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems
    Author

    Friedrich Schiller

    Johann Christoph Friedrich Schiller, ab 1802 von Schiller (* 10. November 1759 in Marbach am Neckar; † 9. Mai 1805 in Weimar), war ein Arzt, Dichter, Philosoph und Historiker. Er gilt als einer der bedeutendsten deutschen Dramatiker, Lyriker und Essayisten.

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      Book preview

      The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems - Friedrich Schiller

      Friedrich Schiller

      The Poems of Schiller — Suppressed poems

      EAN 8596547235859

      DigiCat, 2022

      Contact: DigiCat@okpublishing.info

      Table of Contents

      SUPPRESSED POEMS.

      SUPPRESSED POEMS.

      APPENDIX OF POEMS ETC. IN SCHILLER'S DRAMATIC WORKS.

      APPENDIX.

      SUPPRESSED POEMS.

      Table of Contents

      The Journalists and Minos

      Bacchus in the Pillory

      Spinosa

      To the Fates

      The Parallel

      Klopstock and Wieland

      The Muses' Revenge

      The Hypochondriacal Pluto (A Romance)

      Book I

      Book II

      Book III

      Reproach. To Laura

      The Simple Peasant

      Actaeon

      Man's Dignity

      The Messiah

      Thoughts on the 1st October, 1781

      Epitaph

      Quirl

      The Plague (A Phantasy)

      Monument of Moor the Robber

      The Bad Monarchs

      The Satyr and My Muse

      The Peasants

      The Winter Night

      The Wirtemberger

      The Mole

      Hymn to the Eternal

      Dialogue

      Epitaph on a Certain Physiognomist

      Trust in Immortality

      SUPPRESSED POEMS.

      Table of Contents

      THE JOURNALISTS AND MINOS.

      I chanced the other eve,—

      But how I ne'er will tell,—

      The paper to receive.

      That's published down in hell.

      In general one may guess,

      I little care to see

      This free-corps of the press

      Got up so easily;

      But suddenly my eyes

      A side-note chanced to meet,

      And fancy my surprise

      At reading in the sheet:—

      For twenty weary springs

      (The post from Erebus,

      Remark me, always brings

      Unpleasant news to us)—

      "Through want of water, we

      Have well-nigh lost our breath;

      In great perplexity

      Hell came and asked for Death;

      "'They can wade through the Styx,

      Catch crabs in Lethe's flood;

      Old Charon's in a fix,

      His boat lies in the mud,

      "'The dead leap over there,

      The young and old as well;

      The boatman gets no fare,

      And loudly curses hell.'

      "King Minos bade his spies

      In all directions go;

      The devils needs must rise,

      And bring him news below.

      "Hurrah! The secret's told

      They've caught the robber's nest;

      A merry feast let's hold!

      Come, hell, and join the rest!

      "An author's countless band,

      Stalked round Cocytus' brink,

      Each bearing in his hand

      A glass for holding ink.

      "And into casks they drew

      The water, strange to say,

      As boys suck sweet wine through

      An elder-reed in play.

      "Quick! o'er them cast the net,

      Ere they have time to flee!

      Warm welcome ye will get,

      So come to Sans-souci!

      "Smelt by the king ere long,

      He sharpened up his tooth,

      And thus addressed the throng

      (Full angrily, in truth):

      "'The robbers is't we see?

      What trade? What land, perchance?'—

      'German news-writers we!'—

      Enough to make us dance!

      "'A wish I long have known

      To bid ye stop and dine,

      Ere ye by Death were mown,

      That brother-in-law of mine.

      "'Yet now by Styx I swear,

      Whose flood ye would imbibe,

      That torments and despair

      Shall fill your vermin-tribe!

      "'The pitcher seeks the well,

      Till broken 'tis one day;

      They who for ink would smell,

      The penalty must pay.

      "'So seize them by their thumbs,

      And loosen straight my beast

      E'en now he licks his

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