Goethe In Weimar Sleeps, And Greece, Long

But So Many Books Thou Readest, But So Many Schemes Thou Breedest, But So Many Wishes Feedest, That Thy Poor Head Almost Turns.

Others Abide Our Question. Thou Art Free. We Ask And Ask. Thou Smilest And Art Still, Out-topping Knowledge.

Tis Not To See The World As From A Height, With Rapt Prophetic Eyes, And Heart Profoundly Stirred; And Weep, And Feel The Fullness Of The Past, The Years That Are Not More.

For This Is The True Strength Of Guilty Kings, When They Corrupt The Souls Of Those They Rule.

Nor Bring, To See Me Cease To Live, Some Doctor Full Of Phrase And Fame, To Shake His Sapient Head, And Give The Ill He Cannot Cure A Name.