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Can you tell me, who was it didn't cáre for the stage, Didn't care for the church, didn't care for his tailor, And in his whole hoúse hadn't so much as one rázor?
Why, all the world knows, he that wrote Misopógon.
Sir, I didn't wish to affront you.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 26, 1856.
I'VE chosen a bad title, I am told;
Póems philosophical cannot be sold.
Well! next time Í 'll a bétter títle choose,
And call my poems PHILOSOPHIC News.
And if that also fail, why then, next time
I send into the world a roll of rhyme,
Mum! of philosophy, and mum! of Muse
Who will not buý THE TELEGRAPH'S LATEST News?
CARLSRUHE, March 21, 1856.
"TRÚST in God's providence," the oyster said
Júst as the dredger packed him in the boat;
“Trust in God's providence," again he said
Júst as the knife prised open his strong coát;
“Trust in God's providence," third time he said
And the plump oyster 's down the bishop's throát.
CARLSRUHE, March 19, 1856.
I THÁNK thee not for love or ádmirátion,
For love and admiration bóth are passions,
Both sufferings fórced upon thee will-ye nill-ye;
Nor thánk me thoú if I admire and love thee,
For ón me too are forced alike both passions,
I being a mére autómaton in the matter,
And túrning to or fróm, as I am pulled.
So sáys not every lover, but so acts,
Means so with every présent to his mistress,
And só, although she says not, meáns each fair one
That at the looking - glass adjústs her ribbons.
CARLSRUHE, March 12, 1856.
ÍF thou wouldst seé a pássion tórn to tátters
And every tátter tórn again to tátters,
ff thou wouldst seé the understánding outraged,
And the extravagant and impossible ácted
As mild and módest Nature's own commands,
And cánst look steadily upon a bédlam
Let loose and rámping gó, read Schiller's RÓBBERS.
CARLSRUHE, March 6, 1856.
CHURCH RECRUITING SERGEANTS
FIRST RECRUITING SERGEANT.
EXÁMINE nót, but take it on my word;
To examine is a crime which Gód will púnish.
SECOND RECRUITING SERGEANT.
Exámine, sift the trué out from the false;
Éven for that púrpose hás God given thee reason.
To choose between ye were to bég the question;
Give me a box and díce here, and I'll thrów for 't.
CARLSRUHE, March 14, 1856.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 28, 1856.
He 's gone, the world's glowing, magníficent Gód!
And left till tomorrow the care of his reálms
To his púny vicegérents, the pále moon and stárs.
What! a poet and not superstítious !
'Twon't dó, 'twon't go dówn, they can't bear it;
Go, wríte metaphysics, and leave them
To psálms penitential and Pollock.
CARLSRUHE, March 12, 1856.
IT 's a very fine thing to be súre, I don't doubt it,
To have fine parks and hoúses, fine carriages, horses,
Fine sérvants, fine furniture, pántries and céllars,
Fine pictures, fine státues, fine jewels, fine pláte,
Fine connexions, fine visitors, every thing fine,
But I 'll live less fine — be so good to allow me —
And leave others the grandeur and splendor and care.
PHILOSOPHUS AND PHILARGYRUS.
TREÁSURES of únsunned gold !
Where? whére? Oh, whére? Show me the place; I 'll dig and wíth thee sháre.
Here, read this book; Gods, that the precious prize
Should lié till now unspied by mortal eyes !
No word of it hére; in vain through all the book,
From leaf to leaf, from page to páge, I look.
Why, it is in every page and every line;
Each word 's a signpost pointing to the mine.
I don't like riddles and still less like jokes.
My mine of gold you take then for a hoax;
And so it is, if, to a man of sense,
Between a mine of gold, real difference,
Ánd the high lésson this book's leáves unfold:
Hów to live happy without mine of gold.
CARLSRUHE, Jan. 27, 1856.