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Poems of Goethe

ANOTHER.

Go! obedient to my call,

Turn to profit thy young days,

  Wiser make betimes thy breast

In Fate's balance as it sways,

  Seldom is the cock at rest;
Thou must either mount, or fall,

Thou must either rule and win,

Or submissively give in,
Triumph, or else yield to clamour:
Be the anvil or the hammer.

                                1789.