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Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - Nemesis
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WHEN through the nations stalks contagion wild,
We from them cautiously should steal away.
E`en I have oft with ling`ring and delay
Shunn`d many an influence, not to be defil`d.
And e`en though Amor oft my hours beguil`d,
At length with him preferr`d I not to play,
And so, too, with the wretched sons of clay,
When four and three-lined verses they compil`d.
But punishment pursues the scoffer straight,
As if by serpent-torch of furies led
From bill to vale, from land to sea to fly.
I hear the genie`s laughter at my fate;
Yet do I find all power of thinking fled
In sonnet-rage and love`s fierce ecstasy.
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