C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Philinas Song
By Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (17491832)
S
How the night so lonesome is;
Pretty maids, I’ve got a notion
It is the reverse of this.
And the better half the wife,
So is night to day united,—
Night’s the better half of life.
Day, when none can get his will?
It is good for work, for haytime;
For much other it is ill.
Social lamp on table glows,
Face for faces dear illuming,
And such jest and joyance goes;
Wont by day to run or ride,
Whispering now some tale would tell O,—
All so gentle by your side;
Lovingly her songlet sings,
Which for exiles and sad rovers
Like mere woe and wailing rings;
Do ye count the kindly clock,
Which, twelve times deliberate pealing,
Tells you none to-night shall knock!
Mark it, maidens, what I sing:
Every day its own vexations,
And the night its joys will bring.