"Só when we have left our parents,
Ánd are grown up mén and women,
Ánd our liés no móre can harm them,
Wé may téll lies like grown people?"
Nót a doubt of it; there's no hárm in
Dóing what's done by your párents,
Núrses, teachers and relátions;
If 'twere wrong they would not do it.
"Máy we say we 're not at home then,
Ás mammá says when she 's dréssing?
Máy we sáy we have got a headache,
When we are only out of húmour?
"When a friend comes in to seé us,
Máy we smile and seém quite happy,
And the moment hé has his back turned,
Sáy we scárce could beár the sight of him?"
Yés yes, áll this and as múch more,
Twice as múch more, yé may do then,
Ánd your children, if ye háve any,
Flóg for lying, át the same time.
"Shocking! shocking! wé 'll not dó it;
Either wé ourselves will speák truth,
Ór at least we will not púnish
Thém for doing what ourselves do."
CARLSRUHE, March 9, 1856.
"Quam satus Iapeto, mistam fluvialibus undis,
Finxit in effigiem moderantum cuncta deorum."
THE wise son of Jápet made mán in God's image
Japet's far wiser grandson made Gód in his own.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 25, 1856.
TOWARD hope's beacon far- gleaming across the wild waters
Thou that cleávest with strong arm and stoút heart thy wáy,
Swim ón and fear nóthing; thou súpp'st with thine Héro,
Or the deep sea provides thee with súpper and béd.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 24, 1856.
FROM my heart to my head, from my head to my hánd,
From my hand to my pén, from my pén to my páper,
From my páper to types, and from týpes to more páper,
To thine eyes then, and heád, and at lást to thine heart --
Dost not wonder, sweet reáder, this round-about way
From my heart to thý heart was ever found oút?
HE died, and the emancipated soul
Flew upward, úpward, till it came to
Where it was tóld, that, háving left at night,
It should have gone down, nót have moúnted upward,
For heaven, above all day, by night was downward.
Bút the soul béing ethérial could not sink down
Through the thick dénse air, and but higher róse
The móre it struggled to fly headlong downward.
Só in compássion héll's gate-pórter stówed it
In neighbouring Limbo with unchristened children's
Ínnocent hélpless spirits, suicides,
And souls which, like itself, had gone astray,
Thére in asylum sáfe the tédious time
To while as bést it might till mother chúrch
Decided how at lást to be disposed of
Convénient Límbo's chúrch-perpléxing spirits.
CARLSRUHE, March 19, 1856.
EVERY day that I live adds tó my knowledge
And fróm my coúrage tákes; so when I have coúrage It 's of no use to me for want of knowledge,
And when at lóng and lást I 'm fúll of knowledge,
I cannot use it, béing in wánt of courage.
CARLSRUHE, March 21, 1856.
ONCE on a time a thousand different mén
Togéther knélt before as many Gods
Each from the other different as themselves
Were different each from each, yet didn't fall out,
Or cút each others' throats amidst their prayers
"Stop there! that never happened, ór, if it did,
'Twas by a miracle; or if it happened
Really and in the way of nature, tell me
How, whére, and whén, what kind of men they were, What kind of Gods didn't even the Gods fall out?"
Not éven the Góds; I'll tell thee how it was;
But árt thou trústy? cánst thou keep the sécret?
"Yes yes." Then in thine ear: the thousand Gods
Had áll the sélfsame náme; so every God,
Heáring no náme invoked except his own,
Beliéved that évery man of all the thousand
Worshipped him only; while each one of all
The thousand worshippers, hearing no name
Except his own God's name invoked, believed
That évery one of all the whole nine hundred
Ninety and nine worshipped no God but his;
So áll the thousand men together lived
In love and peace, as holding the same faith,
Ánd of the thousand Góds not óne was jealous.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 13, 1856.
HONEY hére and wormwood there —
But not as each man wishes
Hóney hére and wormwood there
Are oúr altérnate dishes.
CARLSRUHE, March 10, 1856.
I Do not wonder I 'm so often told
That the soul is immortal, grows not old;
So many people, looking inwards, find
Ín their old bódies a still childish mind.
I HÁTE him, the liar, who with feigned words deceives me,
And doúbly I háte him, the cléverer líar,
Who, that I may not call him liar, deceives me
Without words by silence or gésture or loók.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 13, 1856.
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