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CONTENTS.

[Titles are printed in capital letters, first lines in ordinary type.]

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I took thee for a rose, thou 'rt but a poppy

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If I hadn't thee to love I would love something else
INSCRIPTION FOR PEDESTAL OF A LATELY DECEASED POET'S STATUE
IN A LADY'S ALBUM.

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WRITTEN ON THE MARGIN OF A LEAF OF GOETHE'S FAUST.
"How lovely these flowers, and how sweet the birds sing!"
Believe him not, no matter how he swears

TO SELINA.

Oh, the pink of all mill'ners is sweet Poesy!

IN THE HARDTWALD, BESIDE CARLSRUHE, March 12, 1856

"Old father Time, he loves thee so"

I dearly love the red, red rose

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Blessed be the man who first invented chairs!

It's not on the insect that creeps cautious forward

PUTTING A PENNY INTO A CHILD'S HAND.

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I walked, in the sun, by the side of a wood

The poet must know how to sing.

At the kernel to get, thou must first break the shell

Never spider span so fine.

My Polly is a paladin

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And now I know thy bones lie here, vain poet

One sunny April morning we were sauntering

The painting, to live long, must be a poem

Which was the better poet of the two

"Proud, boastful Man," 'twas thus the herring said

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"Of the worst of bad things still some use may be made"

IN A LADY'S ALBUM.

MOSLEM WINE - DRINKER'S CATCH

INSCRIPTION FOR SAADI'S TOMB IN SCHIRAZ

Because I am nobody, turn not, I beg

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TO HOFRATH J. CH. DÖLL, ON OUR LEAVING CARLSRUHE, May 27, 1856

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FOR THE BUST OF MONS. GIAMBATTISTA SARTORI CANOVA

IN THE ALBUM AT POSSAGNO, August 1856.

TO SIGNORA ELISA PAROLINI, ON OUR LEAVING BASSANO.
POET AND ALBUM.

TO DON PIETRO ABATE BONVICINI

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TO SIGNOR FRANCESCO AMBROSI OF BORGO IN THE VAL SUGANA
Round this table, bý this lámp's light

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God bless the light, the best thing God e'er made

A little nearer, and a little nearer

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TO FRAULEIN MINNA GEMMEL OF MARIENWERDER
IN POWERS' STUDIO, FLORENCE, Sept. 17, 1857
IN POWERS' STUDIO, FLORENCE, Sept. 20, 1857
"You make áll your books too long, sir,"
With doses small of hellebore, beginning
So father Adam was his own born son
Near ancient Rome there was a place they called
FOR THE TITLE-PAGE OF MY BOOK.

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It happened once, in ancient Rome's Arena

The sterling gold coin, issued from the mint

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God 's not the word thou oftenest hear'st in Rome

Ás I muttered to myself once

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am the hare; thou, reader, art the lion Your gift's the payment of a previous debt

if you don't know what 's a true friend

"Pshaw! the poetic breed 's extinct," said once.

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Sing ding-a-dong-díng, boys, sing ding-a-dong-ding
Weigh well thy judgment, thou that judgest me
Decide, kind critic, of what stock we are come

"True wisdom whát is 't?" Let me think. True wisdom
"Halt! who goes there?" the sentry cried

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Thou ask'st my counsel in this matter, friend
The wind said to the harp-string:

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Softly thrill

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I sing the captain and the pious arms

TO LOUISA, ON OUR LEAVING PISTOJA, April, 1858
On a terrace of the Hradschin'.

JOHANNES LEIS, INNKEEPER ON THE BRENNER, Sept. 30, 1856
Their tombs stand on the Appian, with their names
Once on a time I made a great acquaintance
I wish you joy, sir, of a son and heir
Fifty years and five, and upwards.

Can you tell me, my fine little fellow, from what
Gréat big fishes have great big mouths.
The mighty puritan hoped, and he was right
IN EMMA NIENDORF'S (LA BARONNE SUCKOW'S) ALBUM

I closed mine eyes and, lo! beside my couch
His lordship had too múch drunk and saw double
Life is a walk along a colonnade

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Fear, in the evening born, and nursed all night

INSTRUCTIONS FOR A YOUNG POET

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"Keep the real Virgil far away," said Dryden

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TO SELINA ON THE FIRST OF JANUARY, WITH A JAR OF HONEY
TO OVID DEPARTING FOR TOMI.

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They call her Morning Red. She is a damsel
They call her Evening Gray. She is a matron
Begone, come near me not, O most profane.
"Fool!" said the sensualist to the laborious .
All the whole world loves twaddle:

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In Error's wood there are a thousand paths.
"Judge me not, father!" said the ingenuous youth
The farmer's dairy and the poet's study
By Youth and Age alike, the present 's borne .
Old father Time brings truth to light

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We, though a little word of two short letters

PROMETHEUS AND 10.

"Pearls before swine, which turn again and rénd you!”
Whether Truth is the child of Time

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"How do you know?"

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"Lay by your poem nine long years," says Horace

INSCRIPTION FOR THE BANK OF IRELAND, FORMERLY THE IRISH PARLIAMENT

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PHILOSOPHY'S LABOUR LOST.

Eternal youth cannot be and was never

"Fresh fish from Helicon! who 'll buy? who 'll buy ?"

Look circumspect round you before Danger comes

THE TWO LOOKING - GLASSES.

Like weeds which a gardener throws out on (the dunghill

In all things else thou mayst agree.

ANNIVERSARY OF MY MOTHER'S DEATH

The Don, he has bestrode his steed

WIND, WOMAN AND KING.

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Forget the past, fear not the morrow

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Only God sees the heart. True, of all hearts

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THE NINE MAIDENS OF CRACOW.

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Thou didst well, Maro, to decree

The art of speaking 's not, to speak the truth

MUSIC.

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WRITTEN IN SCHOLASTICA'S DENKBUCH, SEEHAUS, ACHENSEE, Oct. 9, 1861 .

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