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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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