To Lawgivers
False Impulse to Study
To the Prince of Weimar
The Ideal of Woman (To Amanda)
The Fountain of Second Youth
William Tell
To a Young Friend Devoting Himself to Philosophy
Expectation and Fulfilment
The Common Fate
Human Action
Nuptial Ode
The Commencement of the New Century
Grecian Genius
The Father
The Connecting Medium
The Moment
German Comedy
Farewell to the Reader

Dedications to Death
Preface

SUPPRESSED POEMS

The Journalists and Minos
Bacchus in the Pillory
Spinosa
To the Fates
The Parallel
Klopstock and Wieland
The Muses' Revenge
The Hypochondriacal Pluto (A Romance)
Book I
Book II
Book III
Reproach. To Laura
The Simple Peasant
Actaeon
Man's Dignity
The Messiah
Thoughts on the 1st October, 1781
Epitaph
Quirl
The Plague (A Phantasy)
Monument of Moor the Robber
The Bad Monarchs
The Satyr and My Muse
The Peasants
The Winter Night
The Wirtemberger
The Mole
Hymn to the Eternal
Dialogue
Epitaph on a Certain Physiognomist
Trust in Immortality
Appendix to Poems

POEMS OF SCHILLER.

POEMS OF THE FIRST PERIOD.

HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.

[This and the following poem are, with some alterations, introduced
in the Play of "The Robbers."]

ANDROMACHE.
Will Hector leave me for the fatal plain,
Where, fierce with vengeance for Patroclus slain,
Stalks Peleus' ruthless son?
Who, when thou glid'st amid the dark abodes,
To hurl the spear and to revere the gods,
Shall teach thine orphan one?

HECTOR.
Woman and wife beloved--cease thy tears;
My soul is nerved--the war-clang in my ears!
Be mine in life to stand
Troy's bulwark!--fighting for our hearths, to go
In death, exulting to the streams below,
Slain for my fatherland!

ANDROMACHE.
No more I hear thy martial footsteps fall--
Thine arms shall hang, dull trophies, on the wall--
Fallen the stem of Troy!
Thou goest where slow Cocytus wanders--where
Love sinks in Lethe, and the sunless air
Is dark to light and joy!

HECTOR.
Longing and thought--yes, all I feel and think
May in the silent sloth of Lethe sink,
But my love not!
Hark, the wild swarm is at the walls!--I hear!
Gird on my sword--Belov