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EDWARD 's to the hunting gone,

Hillo! hó! hillo!
His new bridal suit he has on,

Hillo! hó! híllo!

Chéer up, chéer up, lovely bride,

Hillo! hó! hillo!
Only two short hours he 'll ride,

Hillo! hó! hillo!

!

Twó short hours thou 'lt not think long,

Hillo! hó! híllo!
All the evening, dance and song,

Hillo! hó! híllo!

Four long, lóng hours –

nay, don't fret, Hillo! hó! hillo! Lovely bride, the sun 's high yet,

Hillo! hó! hillo!

Edward's horse is sure and strong,

Hillo! hó! híllo!
Safe will bring him home ere long,

Hillo! hó! híllo!

Horses' feet! down to the gate,

Hillo! hó! hillo!
Open-armed, though he come late,

Hillo! hó! híllo!

“Where is my Edward, groom and boy ?”

Hillo! hó! hillo!
“Where 's my only, only joy?”

Hillo! hó! híllo!

“Gód! his horse come home alone!”

Hillo! hó! hillo! “Gód! God!" cried, and with a groan,

Hillo! hó! hillo!

Sánk down by the horse's side,

Hillo! hó! hillo!
Dying dead the widowed bride,

Hillo! hó! hillo!

CARLSRUHE, February 1, 1856.

IN what enchanted ground
Are pearls poetic found?

Go seek them in the sea,
In the deep, deep sea,
Where thought and word are free.
Know'st thou that sea,
The deep, deep sea,
The sea of liberty ?

That sea 's th' enchanted ground
Where the poet's pearls abound;
That sea thy line must sound
Wouldst thou a poet be.
Fear'st thou that sea,
That wide and open sea,
Where thought and word sail free,
No poet canst thou be.

CARLSRUHE, March 16, 1856.

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“AH! what 's the matter?” oft I cry,

Starting from slumber deep
"Ah! what 's the matter? isn't she here?

What? where? was I asleep ?”

And then I turn, and o'er my sense

Again steals slumber deep,
And then I start again and cry: --

“What? where? was I asleep?”

Even by broad day, at times, I start,
As out of slumber deep,

“Where is she? wasn't she here? What? where? was I asleep ?”

And cry:

CARLSRUHE, March 10, 1856.

I TOOK thee for a rose, thou 'rt but a poppy.
Why must I come so nigh? why could I not
Thine odour have imagined ? I had so
Been richer now by one sweet rose the more.

CARLSRUHE, May 20, 1856.

* See DIRGE FOR THE XUI. DEC. MDCCCLII in My Book; also POEMS CHIEFLY PHILOSOPHICAL, pages 181, 208 and 285.

OEHLENSCHLAEGER.

"Ich that es wie die Biene Zellen Und wie der Vogel sich sein Nest erbaut."

OEHLENSCHLAEGER, Correggio.

As bees their célls build and as birds their nests,
As spiders weave and as Allegri painted

By nature, not by art - thou madest thy verses :
Even therefore art thou, in these times of art,
These times, par excellence, of civilisation,
So little known or heard of, Oehlenschlaeger!
Till Nature reigns again and puts to flight
Pedants and sophists, there 's no chance for thee.

CARLSRUHE, April 16, 1856.

IF I hadn't thee to love I would love something else,

To love, in itself is so lovely; And if that something failed me I'd still something love, But I 'd never love any thing as I love thée,

So stay with me thou and don't leave me.

CARLSRUHE, May 19, 1856.

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