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A PERSIAN FABLE

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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
IN A LADY'S ALBUM.
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
My book 's the wide, wide, open field
“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
THE ARAB
THE DEAD DOG.
TO HOFRATH J. CH. DÖLL, ON OUR LEAVING CARLSRUHE, May 27, 1856
Elisa begged I'd go to her
I bade farewell to Antoinette
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
TO SIGNOR FRANCESCO AMBROSI OF BORGO IN THE VAL SUGANA
Round this table, bý this lámp's light
Fare thee well! I don't complain that
I saw, in Dresden, on a windy day
God bless the light, the best thing God e'er made
A little nearer, and a little nearer
Gladly I'd go with my letter
'Twas the heat of the battle at Inkermann
To T. N. COLE ESQ.
TO FRÄULEIN MINNA GEMMEL OF MARIENWERDER
IN POWERS' STUDIO, FLORENCE, Sept. 17, 1857
IN POWERS' STUDIO, FLORENCE, Sept. 20, 1857
“You make all 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.
It happened once, in ancient Rome's Arena
The sterling gold coin, issued from the mint

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Deplore, ye Graces, Chloe's death deplore .
I care not to divert, still less I care .
God 's not the word thou oftenest hear'st in Rome
Ás I muttered to myself once
Í

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 trúe friend
“Pshaw! the poetic breed 's extinct,” said once.
Sing ding-a-dong-ding, 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. Trúe wisdom
“Halt! who goes there ?” the sentry cried
TO SELINA .
Fie! you've só ill writ my verses
Thou ask’st my counsel in this matter, friend
The wind said to the harp-string:

Softly thrill
IN THE ALBUM OF SIGNOR FRANCESCO BARTOLINI
LOUISA .
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
Great 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 much drunk and saw double
Life is a walk along a colonnade
CADI MEHASEB
The letters in the Book of Knowledge run
THEODORIC THE GOTH
WILLIAM AND EMMA
One womb maternal gave birth to two brothers
TO ADDAH .
Fear, in the evening born, and nursed all night
INSTRUCTIONS FOR A YOUNG POET
Said I to my truelove: “Come, marry me.”
"Kéep the real Virgil far away,” said Dryden

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There is a way to be beloved ..
TO SELINA ON THE FIRST OF JANUARY, WITH A JAR OF HONEY
TO OVID DEPARTING FOR TOMI.
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: "How do you know?”
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
It 's true to the letter .
SNAP.
Sleep is a froward child who when you will
INSCRIPTION ON AN EGG .
Poetry to understand
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
ANACREONTIC
"Lay bý your poem nine long years,” says Horace
INSCRIPTION FOR THE BANK OF IRELAND, FORMERLY THE IRISH PARLIAMENT

HOUSE
BYRON.
“Wasting time!” time can't be wasted
Until it 's struck upon
Pretty Moon, whom I so often
A tap came to my bedroom door, one day
There was a time the world admired
THE CHAMOIS - HUNTER.
A rare, scarce yet acclimatized exotic ,
The old song still, the old song still
EPITAPH FOR JULIUS CAESAR
Whoever most successfully ignores
A POET'S PROPOSAL OF MARRIAGE.
Whát race is it which a man runs
I follow not the rhymer's trade
EPITAPH FOR ANACREON :
Loyal and full of confidence in princes
TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD
PHILOSOPHY'S LABOUR LOST.
Eternal youth cannot be and was never
"Fresh fish from Helicon! who 'll buy? who 'll buy ?”

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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.

Forget the past, fear not the morrow

Only God sees the heart. True, of all hearts

I know some wiseacres who think

The lamp no light shows, when I 'm far.

FRAGMENT. I.

THE NINE MAIDENS OF CRACOW.

ADVICE.

Once on a time it happened, it 's full many a year ago

Following the example of Saint Patrick's dean .

FRAGMENT. II. .

I daily come and daily go

FORTUNA FAVET FORTIBUS

FATE AND FORTUNE

“Who 'll a blushing red rose buy?”.

EARLY CLOSING .

Saxon BARD AND MILESIAN SCHOLIAST

HOUSE OF CARDS

Hos EGO.

Speech is God's gift to enable Man to hide

How DO?

Belinda from the glass turns wroth away ·

An air balloon, it seemed, or diving-bell .

MOTTO FOR THE AUTHOR's six PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE HEROIC TIMES

Up to the ears, I have heard it said

Know thine own self, the wise man said of old

I have three friends who read my books

Roma, CAPITALE D'ITALIA

Two hundred men and eighteen killed

When I was young I had so much of life

A man 's a fool, I 've heard it said

LA LENGUA QUEDA, Y LOS OJOS LISTOS .

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

Thou didst well, Maro, to decree

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

MUSIC .

LIFE.

Mine eye lights never on a bearded fop

No cat has two tails, I have heard

HOPE AND MEMORY

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