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His earnest tónes whose agitated heart
In Weimar's gráve from my seventh year lay mouldering;
Láte, but not too late, cáme those earnest tones,
Nór with a livelier Weimar voice unblended,
Nor dissonant with Maro's long loved strain,
Tadjúre me from the world and consecrate me
For ever after solely to the Muse;
Whóse I have been since then, and whose to be
I would cease néver while my lips have power
To utter Maro's, Milton's, Schiller's name.
[CARLSRUHE, Nov. 20, 1855.]
* OÚT of the gráve I took for love thy body,
My bést beloved! and búrned it to a cinder;
Forgive me, that for love I treated thee,
As a bígot pópe for hátred treated Wicliffe..
CARLSRUHE, Nov. 17, 1855.
Go tó, that think’st of Time as of a thing
Outside, and independant of, thyself;
Thyself art Time, runn’st through thy various phases --
AM, WAS, HAVE BEEN, SHALL BE — and com'st to an end.
CARLSRUHE, Nov. 6, 1855.
Unless thy friend is wise advise him nót,
For nó man tákes advice unless he 's wise;
Unless thy friend 's unwise advise him nót,
For ónly the unwise require advice;
And if thy friend 's unwise enough to need,
And wise enough to take, advice, advise him
Only in case thou 'st wise advice to give,
Ánd for thy wise advice no thánks expéctest.
CARLSRUHE, Dec. 12, 1855.
CORPOREAL" dárkness failed to quench the ray
Of vision intellectual in the soul
Of Mílton, Homer, or Tiresias old,
Or chill the warm pulsations of thy heart,
Ténder, imáginative, pénsive Kerner. *
Áh, what a sóng had thine been, hádst thou pítched it
Móre to the súbject's, less to the monarch's ear!
WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 9, 1855.
* Kerner is 69 years of age, and, owing to a cataract on either eye, can scarcely see either to read or write.
As in the printed volume every piece,
So in the mighty úniverse itself
Évery existence, lies between two blanks.
WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 20, 1855.
VERZEIIE, Weinsberg! schön sind deine Trümmer,
Und lieblich grün im Sommer ist dein Berg,
Doch schöner noch ist mir der Weiber Treue,
Die mitten auch in Winterkälte grün.
WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 4, 1855.
* The ruins of the castle of Weinsberg, on a beautiful vine - planted hill immediately outside the town, owe the name by which they are at present known, viz. Die Weibertreue, to the following legend, or, it may be, true history. In the wars between the Welfs and Hohenstauffens in the year 1140, the Hohenstauffens besieged the Welfs in the castle of Weinsberg. The Welfs, reduced to extremities, surrendered at discretion, requiring only that their women should have permission to leave the castle, taking with them as much of their most valuable possessions as they could carry on their backs. The condition having been agreed to, the women walked out, carrying the men on their backs, and thus — for they were chivalrously allowed to pass through the lines unmolested – saved the lives of the garrison and earned for the scene of the exploit the title of Die Weibertreue. Bürger has a poem, not a very good one, on the subject.
RECHTS steht der Aberglaube, Alles glaubend;
Der Skepticism, der gar Nichts glaubt, steht links;
Inmitten schlagen sich der Gläub'gen Schaaren -
Ich schaue zu und freu' mich des Spektakels.
Der Skeptiker zu wenig,
Drum schliess' ich mich den Gläub'gen an,
Wann diese alle einig.
WEINSBERG (WÜRTTEMBERG), Sept. 14, 1855.
WARUM, mein Kind, sehn'st du dich so nach Oben ?
Auf Weiteres wird Alles hier verschoben;
Es giebt, Gottlob! kein Weiteres dort oben.
GIEBELSTADT, near WÜRZBURG, Sept. 29, 1855.
BETWEÉN the Neckar- and the Ammer-Thal,
On the dividing hill, lies Tübingen,
Dirtiest of cities; on each side, a marsh.
Hére I behéld the Suabian Alma Mater
Sítting in filth; and of the poet Uhland
Móre than the oútside stróve in vain to know;
Ánd in Duke Úlrich's castle oft at tea
With philanthropic, Swedenborgian Tafel
And on the Spítzberg botanized with Sigwart;
And in th’ Old College Natural - History Hall
Póred with numbed fingers over petrified
Pre- Ádamite Conchylia, Ichthyosauri,
And foot - tracks, in the sand, of birds and beasts,
Lórds of this world ere it was made for man;
Ánd on the Oesterberg with Vischer strolling
Tálked of the Beaútiful as if our walk
Had been along th’ Ilissus, not the Neckar,
And all too late bethought me that if hís,
How much more mý, esthetic soup required
Yé who in distant lands have heard the fame
Of Tübingen, the protestant, the learned -
Of Tübingen, the nursery of Melanchthon –