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CICERO.

How good must be the author of all goodness!

CESAR.

And oh, how green the sówer of all gráss!

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 19, 1856.

TRUTH.

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THERE is no truth but móral truth, th’accordance
Óf the expression with the inward thought;
And of that truth there 's from its very nature
No júdge but one — the útterer himself.
Essential truth, th’ accordance of th’ expression
With the thing's sélf, varies with every judgment,
John's judgment finding perfect accord there
Where William's finds but discord, or at best
Accord imperfect; and not John's alone
But William's judgment too gainsaying Hugh's,
Hugh's Edward's, Edward's Joseph's, and so on,
Ón without end as long as there 's a judgment.

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Go tó! go tó! then, thoú that seek'st essential,
Absolute truth; thou hast it at this moment;
Nay, hadst it when an infant, when a boy,
As súre as thou shalt have it at fourscore;
Nor to thy júdgment of fourscóre shall seem
One whít more false the judgment of the boy,
Than to the bóy the judgment of fourscore.

To each age, sex and circumstance and station
Its own particular judgment how accord
Thing and expression; and that judgment 's truth
Truth to the individual and the measure
By whích, and which alone, he estimates,
Or cán by possibility éstimate,
The truth or fálsehood of his neighbour's judgment.

2

Go, reader, then, and to thy moral truth
Tenácious clíng, as to thy dear Palladium,
Thy hónor, sacred duty and thy God,
And when men talk to thee of truth essential
Ask them what is it, where is it to be found;
And if they tell thee, here or there or yonder,
Awáy in the pursuit, and thou shalt never
From thát day forward want a pleasant pástime,
A gáme for ever right before thee flying,
For ever near, but never, never caught.

CARLSRUHE, Febr. 5, 1856.

TO MY LOST ONE. *

As long as I had thee, thou deárly loved flower,
The year was to mé sweet spring, súmmer, and aútumn;
As soon as thou droópedst and witheredst awáy,
Ah! then came the cold frozen winter and stórm.

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 14, 1856.

* See page 181 of this volume and DIRGE FOR THE XIII. DEC. MDCCCLII. in My Book.

CORRIGENDA.

Page 14.

Line 7 from bottom, instead of delirium read Delirium Page 98.

Last line, instead of EAST. read west. Page 118. Last line, after that and after advancement supply comma. Page 149. First and second line, instead of Éven read Even Page 173. Line 3 from bottom, dele comma. Page 197. Line 2 from top, after sun and after sets supply comma. Page 204. Line 9 from top, after pláyest supply comma. Page 237. Line 9 from bottom, instead of future, read future;

Dresden, printed by C. C. MEINHOLD AND Sons.

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PASKEWITSCA
Réstless as billows of the sea
TRUE FRIENDS.
TICK TICK TICK.
i, being a bóy, used thus to count my fingers
“Whý 's a priest like a fingerpost, you dunce ?”
There was a curious creature
THE GAP IN THE CLOUDS
În mine inn 'll take mine ease
A double folly how to cook
Said Vinegar-cruet to Mustard - pot once
Tén broad stéps there 's tó my ládder
BEERDRINKER'S SONG. UNDER A PICTURE OF GAMBRINUS.
Önce it háppened I was walking
The húman skull is of deceit
I am a versemaker by trade .
ST. ARNAUD.
Sometimes I 've with my Muse a miff
Sweet breathes the hawthorn in the early spring
King Will his seat in royal state
Well, it is a dárling creature!
WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT PREDAZZO.
Within the convent of Johannathal
I like the Belgian cleanliness and comfort
WRITTEN UNDER A PORTRAIT OF CARDINAL MEZZOFANTI
Once on a time it happened as I was lounging in the Vatican .
I wish I were that little mouse.
TO THE KEY OF MY STRONG BOX.
As my dóg and my cát.
A NIGHT IN MY INN.
THE RECRUIT.
HEAVEN.
SECOND THOUGHTS.
What dóg is that, Sir, tell me, pray
"If well thou wouldst get through this troublesome world”
Another and another and another
Get úp, fool, from your bended knee
THE WAY TO HEAVEN.
TAE BEGGAR AND THE BISHOP.
Tóngueless thou 'st yét a triple voice, gray lock
INSCRIPTION FOR THE TOMBSTONE OF MARAT.
Lét men boast their Brútus
i don't know thee, Sorrow
Ah! it 's háted dáybreak

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