The Girdle.

Aphrodite preserves her beauty concealed by her girdle;
That which lends her her charms is what she covers her shame.

Friedrich Schiller

Friedrich Schiller was a renowned German poet, philosopher, physician, historian, and playwright. Born on November 10, 1759, in Marbach am Neckar, and passing away on May 9, 1805, in Weimar, Schiller is considered one of the most important figures in German literature. His works, including 'Ode to Joy' and 'William Tell', have left a lasting impact on Western literature and thought.

Friedrich Schiller

Choice.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

The Epic Hexameter.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

Dithyramb. [23]

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

Actaeon.

Friedrich Schiller, Simple Poetry

English

Suggested Poems

Explore a curated selection of verses that share themes, styles, and emotional resonance with the poem you've just read.

The Garland And The Girdle.

Quanta si gode, lieta.


What joy hath yon glad wreath of flowers that is
        Around her golden hair so deftly twined,
        Each blossom pressing forward from behind,
        As though to be the first her brows to kiss!
The livelong day her dress hath perfect bliss,
        That now reveals her breast, now seems to bind:
        And that fair woven net of gold refined
        Rests on her cheek and throat in happiness!
Yet still more blissful seems to me the band
        Gilt at the tips, so sweetly doth it ring
        And clasp the bosom that it serves to lace:
Yea, and the belt to such as understand,
        Bound round her waist, saith: here I'd ever cling.--
        What would my arms do in that girdle's place?

Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni

The Virtue Of Woman.

Man of virtue has need;-into life with boldness he plunges,
Entering with fortune more sure into the hazardous strife;
But to woman one virtue suffices; it is ever shining
Lovingly forth to the heart; so let it shine to the eye!

Friedrich Schiller

Honor To Woman.

[Literally "Dignity of Women."]

Honor to woman! To her it is given
To garden the earth with the roses of heaven!
All blessed, she linketh the loves in their choir
In the veil of the graces her beauty concealing,
She tends on each altar that's hallowed to feeling,
And keeps ever-living the fire!

From the bounds of truth careering,
Man's strong spirit wildly sweeps,
With each hasty impulse veering
Down to passion's troubled deeps.
And his heart, contented never,
Greeds to grapple with the far,
Chasing his own dream forever,
On through many a distant star!
But woman with looks that can charm and enchain,
Lureth back at her beck the wild truant again,
By the spell of her presence beguiled
In the home of the mother her modest abode,
And m...

Friedrich Schiller

Naenia.

Even the beauteous must die! This vanquishes men and immortals;
But of the Stygian god moves not the bosom of steel.
Once and once only could love prevail on the ruler of shadows,
And on the threshold, e'en then, sternly his gift he recalled.
Venus could never heal the wounds of the beauteous stripling,
That the terrible boar made in his delicate skin;
Nor could his mother immortal preserve the hero so godlike,
When at the west gate of Troy, falling, his fate he fulfilled.
But she arose from the ocean with all the daughters of Nereus,
And o'er her glorified son raised the loud accents of woe.
See! where all the gods and goddesses yonder are weeping,
That the beauteous must fade, and that the perfect must die.
Even a woe-song to be in the mouth of the loved ones is glorious,
...

Friedrich Schiller

Nuptial Ode. [60]

Fair bride, attended by our blessing,
Glad Hymen's flowery path 'gin pressing!
We witnessed with enraptured eye
The graces of thy soul unfolding,
Thy youthful charms their beauty moulding
To blossom for love's ecstasy.
A happy fate now hovers round thee,
And friendship yields without a smart
To that sweet god whose might hath bound thee;
He needs must have, he hath thy heart!

To duties dear, to trouble tender,
Thy youthful breast must now surrender,
Thy garland's summons must obey.
Each toying infantine sensation,
Each fleeting sport of youth's creation,
Forevermore hath passed away;
And Hymen's sacred bond now chaineth
Where soft and fluttering love was shrined;
Yet for a heart, where beauty reigneth,
Of flowers alone that bond is twined....

Friedrich Schiller

To The Fates.

Not in the crowd of masqueraders gay,
Where coxcombs' wit with wondrous splendor flares,
And, easier than the Indian's net the prey,
The virtue of young beauties snares;

Not at the toilet-table of the fair,
Where vanity, as if before an idol, bows,
And often breathes a warmer prayer
Than when to heaven it pays its vows;

And not behind the curtain's cunning veil,
Where the world's eye is hid by cheating night,
And glowing flames the hearts assail,
That seemed but chilly in the light,

Where wisdom we surprise with shame-dyed lip,
While Phoebus' rays she boldly drinks,
Where men, like thievish children, nectar sip,
And from the spheres e'en Plato sinks

To ye to ye, O lonely sister-band,
Daughters of destiny, ascend,
When o'er the...

Friedrich Schiller