Honest is now my intent,—with grateful thanks I acknowledge
That thou thy life and thy works hast to my worship ordained.
See, I have followed thee hither, to Rome, with kindly intention,
Hoping to give thee mine aid, e'en in the foreigner's land.
Every traveller complains that the quarters he meets with are wretched;
Happily lodged, though, is he, who is by Amor received.
Thou dost observe the ruins of ancient buildings with wonder,
Thoughtfully wandering on, over each time-hallowed spot.
Thou dost honour still more the worthy relics created
By the few artists whom I loved in their studios to seek.
I 'twas fashioned those forms! thy pardon,—I boast not at present;
Presently thou shalt confess, that what I tell thee is true.
Now that thou servest me more idly, where are the beauteous figures,
Where are the colours, the light, which thy creations once filled?
Hast thou a mind again to form? The school of the Grecians
Still remains open, my friend; years have not barred up its doors.
I, the teacher, am ever young, and love all the youthful,
Love not the subtle and old; Mother, observe what I say!
Still was new the Antique, when yonder blest ones were living;
Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/377
POEMS OF GOETHE
343
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/f/f3/The_Works_of_J._W._von_Goethe%2C_Volume_9.djvu/page377-1024px-The_Works_of_J._W._von_Goethe%2C_Volume_9.djvu.jpg)