Contents -BIBLIOGRAPHIC RECORD

Margarete Münsterberg, ed., trans. A Harvest of German Verse. 1916.

By Wild Rose

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)

ONCE a lad a rose did spy,

On the moorland growing,

Young and lovely to the eye;

Fast he ran to see it nigh,

Ran with pleasure glowing.

Red rose, red rose, red rose red,

On the moorland growing.

Spake the lad: “I’ll pick thee now,

Rose on moorland growing!”

Spake the rose: “I’ll prick thee now:

Thou wilt think of me, I trow!—

Go, wild boy, be going!”

But the boy so wild and bad

Broke the red rose glowing;

Rose in anger pricked the lad,

Rose must suffer him, though sad

And her fury showing.

Red rose, red rose, red rose red,

Rose on moorland growing!