When Fate mé Mistress she 'ssigned me none But mine own Peerless Joan. TÜBINGEN, Aug. 28, 1855. POET. THESE vérses reád, and, having read, tell me If not as good as Horace's they be. CRITIC. As good as Hórace's! my dear Sir, no; POET. Had míne been writ two thousand years ago, CRITIC. Nó, by no means; then thou hadst been the rule, And I had learned thee off by heart at school. POET. Alas, alas, the tyranny of Fate! Bétter not born at áll, than born so late. CRITIC. Pátience; thou 'rt time enough; each has his date, Some earlier, later some, but all must wait. Two thousand years hence thou perhaps shalt be Greáter than Horace Why so stare at me? POET. I'm thinking if two thousand years work so, CRITIC. Undo all that two thousand years had done, POET. Then there's no way to be for ever known, CRITIC. And if there were, what were 't but vanity POET. So bé it. Come, Múse, let 's not throw pearls away, We'll please our noble selves; I thee, thou me; Walking from WEINSBERG in WÜRTTEMBERG to WÜRZBURG in Bavaria; Sept. 25-29, 1855. "Immer am widrigsten bleibt der Schein des Monds und der Sterne, Nicht ein Körnlein, bei Gott! weckt ihr unpraktischer Strahl." JUSTINUS KERNER. THIS world's so fast progréssing I do not despair to seẻ yet Three things, that now run áll to waste, turned tó important úses: There's first of all the singing birds, it goes to my heart to hear them Straining their little throáts and lungs to nó conceivable púrpose; Teach them to sing a régular tune, and sóldiers could march tó it, And cost of fife and drúm be spared as well 's of fifer and drúmmer. Then there's the moon- and stár-light bright, that, áll the livelong night through, On hill and vale and sea and plain Heaven só profusely squánders, I'd like to know why it might not be in réservoirs collécted, And at the State's expénse should be, by fórcing pump and béllows, In cópious streams, to every house, suppliéd all day and night long, To keep it clear from dúst and smoke and chólera and féver; And every man should pay a fine that 's óf the crime convicted, Of wasting wind in foólish talk or blowing the church órgan, But women's mouths should still be free, and weathercocks and windmills, And ships of every size and rig, and members of both Houses. If God 's so good my life to spare until I see these changes, I'll dié content, not doubting but things will go ón impróving Until at last the whole wide world 's exactly as it should be. WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 9, 1855. THE coachman drives, the horses draw, the carriage carries Díves, Who sits inside and lólls at ease, secúre from wind and weather; But Dives' nights are réstless, he has no áppetite for dinner: — "Discharge your coachman, Dives, sell your horses and your cárriage, And on your two legs trúdge it, under évery wind and weather, And, créde mi expérto, as a tóp you 'll sleep all night sound, And hardly wait for énded Grace, to fall upon your dinner." WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 7, 1855. WOULDST thou convince the doubting world thou 'rt truly HEIDELBERG, August 1, 1855. THERE are two sisters; one with bright, And oútstretched hand and warm embrace, And step alert, and such sweet voice As mákes the hearer's heart rejoice. Nó company is to my mind. In which I don't this sister find. Néver in this world was seen Bóth in one house live and attend One opens, and one shuts, the door; GOTHA, Oct. 11, 1855. Need I say more? |