MÁN with sagácious forethought penetrates
Ínto the sécrets of the days to come,
Hólds with reténtive memory the past,
And all things round him to his use adapts
With wonderworking wisdom, skill and power,
And reigns on earth, a God; until perchance
A pín his finger prick, or a cold wind
Blów in his face, and then, poor man! he dies,
And sádly goes to heaven -to reign again.
CARLSRUHE, Dec. 12, 1855.
MAY I beg to ask whý thou preférrest me, Múse!
To só mány who 're wiser and better?
"I don't knów; I'm not súre; but I 've heard people say That truelove 's of truelove the begétter."
CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.
TO THE DEPARTING YEAR 1855.
FAREWELL! and though thou tak'st not with thee all
The weight of sorrow thou brought'st with thee, coming,
But ták'st instead some of my bodily strength,
Sóme of my látest dárk hairs and skin's freshness,
Yet gó in peace; for thou hast left untouched
My nóbler part, and what thou 'st taken from me
In thew and color, paid me in my child,
I cannot say with an illiberal hand.
Gó then in peace; I'll think of thee at times,
Perhaps at times regret thee fare thee well!
CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.
ON READING GOETHE'S ELEGIES.
FIE, Goethe! I knew not until today
Thou wast given to migrate out of thy fair palace
And take thy lódging in a filthy sty
Fie, Goethe! from henceforth we 're less good friends;
And yét ere now I have at times suspected
Thou wást not áll gold, often missed in thee
The cláng of the pure metal, often spied
The dusk hue of the copper at thy rim.
Perhaps even therefore art thou the more current,
For nót who has fewest faults or greatest virtues
Álways most pleases, but whose mind to ours
Closest assimilates; perhaps even therefore
Hast thou attracted só the not too fine
Discérning, or requiring, princely eye,
And by the princely eye been so attracted
A sócio nóscitur, and like to like
And in more courts than Weimar's have been blended The odours of the sty and the parterre.
THE FIRST ROSE OF SUMMER.
AIR: "The Last Rose of Summer."
'Tis the first rose of summer, shy peeping half-blówn,
And scárcely quite súre yet, the cold winter 's góne;
Fear nothing, new cómer; there 's nó danger nigh
Every day the air 's sófter, and brighter the sky.
Thou shalt not long hang lónely, shalt nót long thy bloom
Singly spread to the sún, singly shéd thy perfúme,
For I see yonder cóming, like theé fresh and fair,
Thy sisters in clústers to adórn the partérre.
With them bloom together, with them fade and dié;
And só, lovely róse, may my heart's friends and Í,
When we 've happy together the lóng summer pássed,
Togéther drop into the earth's lap at lást.
YE álmost máke a God of Sól,
Who bút by day gives light;
What worthy praise have yẻ for mé,
Who into dáy turn night?
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 27, 1856.
THE agitating problem which of all
Imáginable forms of government
Is súrest, happiest, permanentest, best,
Ánd to what form of government will áll men
Give trúest, reádiest, joyfullest adhesion -
Thou sólvest only on the day on which
Thou sólv'st the previous question, which the form
To every individual assures
"Most happiness?" No, I'm in downright earnest.
"Most liberty?" If thou must jest, jest on.
"I ówn, I'm at a loss; go on, I'm dumb --”
Most ábsolute control over the actions,
Words, and most sécret thoughts, of all the rest.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 14, 1856.
FROM blank nought to the womb, from the womb to the crádle,
From the cradle to school, and from school to the mill
There to grind, till it 's weáry, bread, hónor, or ríches
To the sick chamber then and sick béd, and at lást
To a box and the blánk nought from which first it cáme.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 17, 1856.
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