Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/254

224 Would draw Jove's eagle from his throne; Yes, Venus' turtle-doves, I ween, And the vain peacock e'en, Would come, I swear. Soon as that tone had reached them through the air.

E'en from a forest dark had she Enticed a bear, unlicked, ill-bred, And, by her wiles alluring, led To join the gentle company, Until as tame as they was he: (Up to a certain point, be it understood!) How fair, and ah! how good She seemed to be! I would have drained my blood To water e'en her flow'rets sweet.

"Thou sayest: I! Who? How? And where?"— Well, to be plain, good sirs—I am the bear; In a net apron, caught, alas! Chained by a silk thread at her feet. But how this wonder came to pass I'll tell some day if ye are curious; Just now, my temper's much too furious.

Ah, when I'm in the corner placed, And hear afar the creatures snapping, And see the flipping and the flapping, I turn around With growling sound. And backward run a step in haste. And look around With growling sound. Then run again a step in haste. And to my former post go round.

But suddenly my anger grows, A mighty spirit fills my nose,