Faust Ein Mythos und Seine Bearbeitungen |
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Author:
| von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang |
Read by:
| von Goethe, Johann Wolfgang |
ISBN: | 978-0-217-21212-0 |
Publication Date: | Jan 2012 |
Publisher: | General Books LLC
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Book Format: | Paperback |
List Price: | AUD $8.80 |
Book Description:
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Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: PRELUDE ON THE STAGE.4 Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry-andrew. Manager. 7OU two, who oft a helping hand Have lent, in need and tribulation, Come, let me know your expectation Of this, our enterprise, in German land I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, Especially since it lives and lets me live; The...
More DescriptionPurchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: PRELUDE ON THE STAGE.4 Manager. Dramatic Poet. Merry-andrew. Manager. 7OU two, who oft a helping hand Have lent, in need and tribulation, Come, let me know your expectation Of this, our enterprise, in German land I wish the crowd to feel itself well treated, Especially since it lives and lets me live; The posts are set, the booth of boards completed, And each awaits the banquet I shall give. Already there, with curious eyebrows raised, They sit sedate, and hope to be amazed. I know how one the People's taste may flatter, Yet here a huge embarrassment I feel: What they 're accustomed to, is no great matter j But then, alas they 've read an awful deal. How shall we plan, that all be fresh and new, ? Important matter, yet attractive too ? For 't is my pleasure to behold them surging, When to our booth the current sets apace, And with tremendous, oft-repeated urging, Squeeze onward through the narrow gate of grace: By daylight even, they push and cram in To reach the seller's box, a fighting host, And as for bread, around a baker's door, in famine, To get a ticket break their necks almost. This miracle alone can work the Poet On men so various: now, my friend, pray show it Poet. Speak not to me of yonder motley masses, Whom but to see, puts out the fire of Song Hide from my view the surging crowd that passes, And in its whirlpool forces us along No, lead me where some heavenly silence glasses The purer joys that round the Poet throng, ? Where Love and Friendship still divinely fashion The bonds that bless, the wreaths that crown his passion Ah, every utterance from the depths of feeling The timid lips have stammeringly expressed, ? Now failing, now, perchance, success revealing,