PROVIDENCE versus CHANCE AND FATE.

THE ship struck on a rock by accident, And sánk, and all on board were lost but two, Whóm in the longboat of th' illfated vessel, Álmost by miracle, a kind Providence saved. WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 3, 1855.

No wonder, reader, that from all I say

Thou túrn'st with closed eyes and closed ears away, Fór in this point at least all men agree,

That each will teacher, none will learner, be.

WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 13, 1855.

INSCRIPTION

FOR A LUCIFER MATCH BOX.

(I)

PROMETHEUS' feát to thine was but a patch,

Glórious inventor of the lucifer-match!

Thou steal'st not fire, but mák'st it fresh and new; And, what even Heaven forgót, hid'st it from view.

WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 20, 1855.

ÓN my bed

Dówn my head

Laid like lead,

Clothes tucked in

Under chin,

I begin

Not to sleep,

But to weep

And watch keep,

Wondering why
Í don't die

Instantly,

And down low,

Sad and slow,

Tó Styx go,
There to moan
Faithless Joan

Away flown,

Flown away,

Would not stay,

Lack a day!

Well, let bé!

Plain I see

"Twould kill me

Take toward kind

Rosalind.

With stout mind,

Shown by nip
Óf my lip,

And firm grip

Óf my stick,

Í pass quick
Thé hayrick,

Whére, close bý

Joán's house, I

Used to lie

On the ground,
Watching round
Sight or sound
Óf Joan nigh.
"Bye! good bye!
Joan," said I;
"Ás thou me,
Í leave thee,

Tó live free,"

And a look,
Turning, took
Of the brook

Ánd grass plat
Ánd flower knot

And thatched cot.

The fresh sun,

His day's run

Just begun,

Clad with bright

Ruddy light

Tower and height,