The Four Ages of the World
The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine,Bright glistens the eye of each guest,When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine,To the good he now brings what is best;For when from Elysium is absent the lyre,No joy can the banquet of nectar inspire.
He is blessed by the gods, with an intellect clear,That mirrors the world as it glides;He has seen all that ever has taken place here,And all that the future still hides.He sat in the god's secret councils of oldAnd heard the command for each thing to unfold.
He opens in splendor, with gladness and mirth,That life which was hid from our eyes;Adorns as a temple the dwelling of earth,That the Muse has bestowed as his prize,No roof is so humble, no hut is so low,But he with divinities bids it o'erflow.
And as the inventive descendant of Zeus,On the unadorned round of the shield,With knowledge divine could, reflected, produceEarth, sea, and the star's shining field,--So he, on the moments, as onward they roll,The image can stamp of the infinite whole.
From the earliest age of the world he has come,When nations rejoiced in their prime;A wanderer glad, he has still found a homeWith every race through all time.Four ages of man in his lifetime have died,And the place they once held by the fifth is supplied.
Saturnus first governed, with fatherly smile,Each day then resembled the last;Then flourished the shepherds, a race without guileTheir bliss by no care was o'ercast,They loved,--and no other employment they had,And earth gave her treasures with willingness glad.
Then labor came next, and the conflict beganWith monsters and beasts famed in song;And heroes upstarted, as rulers of man,And the weak sought the aid of the strong.And strife o'er the field of Scamander now reigned,But beauty the god of the world still remained.
At length from the conflict bright victory sprang,And gentleness blossomed from might;In heavenly chorus the Muses then sang,And figures divine saw the light;--The age that acknowledged sweet phantasy's swayCan never return, it has fleeted away.
The gods from their seats in the heavens were hurled,And their pillars of glory o'erthrown;And the Son of the Virgin appeared in the worldFor the sins of mankind to atone.The fugitive lusts of the sense were suppressed,And man now first grappled with thought in his breast.
Each vain and voluptuous charm vanished now,Wherein the young world took delight;The monk and the nun made of penance a vow,And the tourney was sought by the knight.Though the aspect of life was now dreary and wild,Yet love remained ever both lovely and mild.
An altar of holiness, free from all stain,The Muses in silence upreared;And all that was noble and worthy, againIn woman's chaste bosom appeared;The bright flame of song was soon kindled anewBy the minstrel's soft lays, and his love pure and true.
And so, in a gentle and ne'er-changing band,Let woman and minstrel unite;They weave and they fashion, with hand joined to hand,The girdle of beauty and right.When love blends with music, in unison sweet,The lustre of life's youthful days ne'er can fleet.
Words in this poem
- elysium n.
- A dwelling place assigned to happy souls after death; the seat of future happiness; Paradise.
- lifetime n.
- The time that life continues.
- fatherly a.
- Like a father in affection and care; paternal; tender; protecting; careful.
- strife n.
- The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
- atone v. t.
- To set at one; to reduce to concord; to reconcile, as parties at variance; to appease.
- tourney v. i.
- To perform in tournaments; to tilt. [Cf.OF. torneier. See Tourney, n.]
- dreary a.
- Sorrowful; distressful. [OE. dreori, dreri, AS. dreórig, sad; akin to G. traurig, and prob. to AS. dreósan to fall, Goth. driusan. Cf. Dross, Drear, Drizzle, Drowse.]
- lustre n.
- A period of five years; a lustrum. [L. lustrum: cf. F. lustre.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
The Four Ages of the World is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Poems of Schiller — Third period, Project Gutenberg ebook #6796; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: Friedrich Schiller, The Four Ages of the World, in The Poems of Schiller: Third Period (1805), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6796, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/schiller-third-period/the-four-ages-of-the-world.html, id L21828.
Form and metre
The Four Ages of the World is 72 lines in 12 stanzas of 6 lines each. Every stanza rhymes ABABCC. The metre is anapaestic tetrameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 94%).
See other poems in anapaestic tetrameter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 ABABCC wineA · guestB · divineA · bestB · lyreC · inspireC
- 2 ABABCC clearA · glidesB · hereA · hidesB · oldC · unfoldC
- 3 ABABCC mirthA · eyesB · earthA · prizeB · lowC · o'erflowC
- 4 ABABCC zeusA · shieldB · produceA · fieldB · rollC · wholeC
- 5 ABABCC comeA · primeB · homeA · timeB · diedC · suppliedC
- 6 ABABCC smileA · lastB · guileA · o'ercastB · hadC · gladC
- 7 ABABCC beganA · songB · manA · strongB · reignedC · remainedC
- 8 ABABCC sprangA · mightB · sangA · lightB · swayC · awayC
- 9 ABABCC hurledA · o'erthrownB · worldA · atoneB · suppressedC · breastC
- 10 ABABCC nowA · delightB · vowA · knightB · wildC · mildC
- 11 ABABCC stainA · uprearedB · againA · appearedB · anewC · trueC
- 12 ABABCC bandA · uniteB · handA · rightB · sweetC · fleetC
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic tetrameter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| The goblet is sparkling with purpled-tinged wine, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| Bright glistens the eye of each guest, | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| When into the hall comes the Minstrel divine, | 11 | ·······/˘˘/ |
| To the good he now brings what is best; | 9 | ········· |
| For when from Elysium is absent the lyre, | 11 | ···˘/˘·/˘·· |
| No joy can the banquet of nectar inspire. | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| He is blessed by the gods, with an intellect clear, | 12 | ········/˘·· |
| That mirrors the world as it glides; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| He has seen all that ever has taken place here, | 11 | ·····/·/˘·· |
| And all that the future still hides. | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| He sat in the god's secret councils of old | 11 | ·····/˘/˘·· |
| And heard the command for each thing to unfold. | 11 | ···˘/····˘/ |
| He opens in splendor, with gladness and mirth, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘·/˘·· |
| That life which was hid from our eyes; | 9 | ······/˘· |
| Adorns as a temple the dwelling of earth, | 11 | ˘/··/˘·/˘·· |
| That the Muse has bestowed as his prize, | 10 | ····˘/˘··· |
| No roof is so humble, no hut is so low, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| But he with divinities bids it o'erflow. | 11 | ···˘/˘˘···· |
| And as the inventive descendant of Zeus, | 11 | ···˘/˘˘/˘·· |
| On the unadorned round of the shield, | 10 | ···˘/˘···· |
| With knowledge divine could, reflected, produce | 11 | ·/˘˘/·˘/˘/˘ |
| Earth, sea, and the star's shining field,-- | 8 | ·····/˘· |
| So he, on the moments, as onward they roll, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘·· |
| The image can stamp of the infinite whole. | 11 | ·/˘····/˘˘· |
| From the earliest age of the world he has come, | 11 | ··/˘······· |
| When nations rejoiced in their prime; | 8 | ·/˘˘/··· |
| A wanderer glad, he has still found a home | 11 | ·/˘˘······· |
| With every race through all time. | 8 | ·/˘˘···· |
| Four ages of man in his lifetime have died, | 11 | ·/˘····/··· |
| And the place they once held by the fifth is supplied. | 12 | ··········˘/ |
| Saturnus first governed, with fatherly smile, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘· |
| Each day then resembled the last; | 8 | ···˘/˘·· |
| Then flourished the shepherds, a race without guile | 11 | ·/˘·/˘····· |
| Their bliss by no care was o'ercast, | 8 | ········ |
| They loved,--and no other employment they had, | 11 | ····/˘˘/˘·· |
| And earth gave her treasures with willingness glad. | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘· |
| Then labor came next, and the conflict began | 11 | ·/˘····/˘˘/ |
| With monsters and beasts famed in song; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| And heroes upstarted, as rulers of man, | 11 | ·/˘/·˘·/˘·· |
| And the weak sought the aid of the strong. | 9 | ········· |
| And strife o'er the field of Scamander now reigned, | 11 | ··········· |
| But beauty the god of the world still remained. | 11 | ·/˘······˘/ |
| At length from the conflict bright victory sprang, | 11 | ····˘/·/˘˘· |
| And gentleness blossomed from might; | 8 | ·/˘˘/˘·· |
| In heavenly chorus the Muses then sang, | 11 | ·/˘˘/˘·/˘·· |
| And figures divine saw the light;-- | 8 | ·/˘˘/··· |
| The age that acknowledged sweet phantasy's sway | 11 | ···˘/˘····· |
| Can never return, it has fleeted away. | 11 | ·/˘˘/··/˘˘/ |
| The gods from their seats in the heavens were hurled, | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| And their pillars of glory o'erthrown; | 9 | ··/˘·/˘·· |
| And the Son of the Virgin appeared in the world | 12 | ·····/˘˘/··· |
| For the sins of mankind to atone. | 9 | ····//·˘/ |
| The fugitive lusts of the sense were suppressed, | 11 | ·/˘˘·····˘/ |
| And man now first grappled with thought in his breast. | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| Each vain and voluptuous charm vanished now, | 11 | ···˘/˘˘·/˘· |
| Wherein the young world took delight; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| The monk and the nun made of penance a vow, | 11 | ·······/˘·· |
| And the tourney was sought by the knight. | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| Though the aspect of life was now dreary and wild, | 12 | ··/·····/˘·· |
| Yet love remained ever both lovely and mild. | 11 | ··˘//˘·/˘·· |
| An altar of holiness, free from all stain, | 11 | ·/˘·/˘˘···· |
| The Muses in silence upreared; | 8 | ·/˘·/˘·· |
| And all that was noble and worthy, again | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘/ |
| In woman's chaste bosom appeared; | 8 | ·/˘·/˘˘/ |
| The bright flame of song was soon kindled anew | 11 | ·······/˘˘/ |
| By the minstrel's soft lays, and his love pure and true. | 12 | ··/˘········ |
| And so, in a gentle and ne'er-changing band, | 11 | ····/˘··/˘· |
| Let woman and minstrel unite; | 8 | ·/˘·/˘/· |
| They weave and they fashion, with hand joined to hand, | 11 | ····/˘····· |
| The girdle of beauty and right. | 8 | ·/˘·/˘·· |
| When love blends with music, in unison sweet, | 11 | ····/˘·/˘˘· |
| The lustre of life's youthful days ne'er can fleet. | 11 | ·/˘··/˘···· |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.