ONCE I held a well-carved brimming goblet,-- <br />In my two hands tightly clasp'd I held it, <br />Eagerly the sweet wine sipp'd I from it, <br />Seeking there to drown all care and sorrow. <br /> <br />Amor enter'd in, and found me sitting, <br />And he gently smiled in modest fashion, <br />Smiled as though the foolish one he pitied. <br /> <br />"Friend, I know a far more beauteous vessel, <br />One wherein to sink thy spirit wholly; <br />Say, what wilt thou give me, if I grant it, <br />And with other nectar fill it for thee?" <br /> <br />Oh, how kindly hath he kept his promise! <br />For to me, who long had yearn'd, he granted <br />Thee, my Lida, fill'd with soft affection. <br /> <br />When I clasp mine arms around thee fondly, <br />When I drink in love's long-hoarded balsam <br />From thy darling lips so true, so faithful, <br />Fill'd with bliss thus speak I to my spirit <br />"No! a vessel such as this, save Amor <br />Never god hath fashion'd or been lord of! <br />Such a form was ne'er produced by Vulcan <br />With his cunning, reason-gifted hammers! <br />On the leaf-crown'd mountains may Lyaeus <br />Bid his Fauns, the oldest and the wisest, <br />Pass the choicest clusters through the winepress, <br />And himself watch o'er the fermentation: <br />Such a draught no toil can e'er procure him!"<br /><br />Johann Wolfgang von Goethe<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-goblet/
