The Mountain Castle
THERE stands on yonder high mountain
A castle built of yore,
Where once lurked horse and horseman
In rear of gate and of door.
Now door and gate are in ashes,
And all around is so still;
And over the fallen ruins
I clamber just as I will.
Below once lay a cellar,
With costly wines well stor'd;
No more the glad maid with her pitcher
Descends there to draw from the hoard.
No longer the goblet she places
Before the guests at the feast;
The flask at the meal so hallow'd
No longer she fills for the priest.
No more for the eager squire
The draught in the passage is pour'd;
No more for the flying present
Receives she the flying reward.
For all the roof and the rafters,
They all long since have been burn'd,
And stairs and passage and chapel
To rubbish and ruins are turn'd.
Yet when with lute and with flagon,
When day was smiling and bright,
I've watch'd my mistress climbing
To gain this perilous height,
Then rapture joyous and radiant
[...] Read more
poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
