Johann Wolfgang von Goethe - The Legend Of The HorseshoeJohann Wolfgang von Goethe - The Legend Of The Horseshoe
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WHAT time our Lord still walk`d the earth,
Unknown, despised, of humble birth,
And on Him many a youth attended
(His words they seldom comprehended),
It ever seem`d to Him most meet
To hold His court in open street,
As under heaven`s broad canopy
One speaks with greater liberty.
The teachings of His blessed word
From out His holy mouth were heard;
Each market to a fane turn`d He
With parable and simile.
One day, as tow`rd a town He roved,
In peace of mind with those He loved,
Upon the path a something gleam`d;
A broken horseshoe `twas, it seem`d.
So to St. Peter thus He spake:
"That piece of iron prythee take!"
St. Peter`s thoughts had gone astray,—
He had been musing on his way
Respecting the world`s government,
A dream that always gives content,
For in the head `tis check`d by nought;
This ever was his dearest thought,
For him this prize was far too mean
Had it a crown and sceptre been!
But, surely, `twasn`t worth the trouble
For half a horseshoe to bend double!
And so he turn`d away his head,
As if he heard not what was said,
The Lord, forbearing tow`rd all men,
Himself pick`d up the horseshoe then
(He ne`er again like this stoop`d down).
And when at length they reach`d the town,
Before a smithy He remain`d,
And there a penny for `t obtain`d.
As they the market-place went by,
Some beauteous cherries caught His eye:
Accordingly He bought as many
As could be purchased for a penny,
And then, as oft His wont had been,
Placed them within His sleeve unseen.
They went out by another gate,
O`er plains and fields proceeding straight,
No house or tree was near the spot,
The sun was bright, the day was hot;
In short, the weather being such,
A draught of water was worth much.
The Lord walk`d on before them all,
And let, unseen, a cherry fall.
St. Peter rush`d to seize it hold,
As though an apple `twere of gold;
His palate much approv`d the berry;
The Lord ere long another cherry
Once more let fall upon the plain;
St. Peter forthwith stoop`d again.
The Lord kept making him thus bend
To pick up cherries without end.
For a long time the thing went on;
The Lord then said, in cheerful tone:
"Had`st thou but moved when thou wert bid,
Thou of this trouble had`st been rid;
The man who small things scorns, will next,
By things still smaller be perplex`d."
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