JEHU.

SEE where on the coáchbox seated,
Reíns in left hand, whip in right,
Jéhu úp hill cáreless chírrups,
Dówn hill cautious holds all tight.

Évery where there is a Jéhu,
Ón the land and ón the seá,
Ín the cottage, in the palace,
Sóme one still to crý: wo! geé!

I'm a Jéhu; géntle reáders,

You 're my spánking foúr-in-hand;
Tsit! tsit! óff we go at gállop

Wó! draw up! so! steády! stánd!

Sónnie toó, he is a Jéhu,

With his lashes and his tóp;

Ánd belów there is a Jéhu;

Ánd above- "Good póet, stóp!"

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 13, 1855.

HE.

FAREWELL for ever, and sometimes a sigh

Heave when thou think'st of him beyond the sea.

SHE.

Farewell for éver, and if thoú must sigh

When thou of me think'st, think no more of mé. CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.

MODEST, mild, unpreténding, obsérvant, invéntive,
The pén goes before, finds and points out the way,
Measures, cálculates, pláns, pioneers, counts expénses,
And is léft, for reward, to its own conscious mérit.
Fierce, insolent, rúde, devastating and cruel,

The sword swaggers áfter, hacks, héws, stabs and slashes,
And gets all the laúrels and boóty and praise.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 19, 1855.

CICERO.

ALL the good which we see in this world proves God's goódness.

CESAR.

To be súre! and his bádness is proved by the bád.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 15, 1855.

ARABÉLLA my sóng read,

And said 'twas mere water
Ah, whý hadn't I courage
To tell Arabella,

She had but to sing it

To túrn it to wine!

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 11, 1855.

TO FRÄULEIN EMILIA SÜPFLE,

CARLSRUHE, NOV. 19, 1855.

I'm so anxious to knów whether your bad tooth's better,
I can't put off writing till my bad tooth 's better,

But send me word only that your bad tooth 's better,
And you send me a charm will make my bad tooth bétter.

SEE yónder státely, spreading treé,
Loaded with frágrant flower and fruit,
And neither for its own behoof
What is it like? alás! a póet.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 25, 1855.

TWO ángels, séparate or together, páy me
Occasional visits; of the fallen crew óne,

The other, of the race that still stands úpright.
Hideous the fáce, and térrible to hear

The voice and foótstep of the fallen one coming,
And while he stays; but beautiful his híndparts,
And sweetest músic his depárting step,
And sweéter still and sweeter, as more distant.
The other's face is lovely, and the sound
Of his approaching step more than the hum
Of honey-gathering beé delights the ear,
Or sóng of lárk or note of early cuckoo,
But ódious to the eye his hinder parts,
And on the ear jars his departing step.
Neither stays lóng, nor long remains away;
Neither the other loves, and though they come
Sometimes together, oftener they come separate.
Alike in winter's cold and summer's heat,

By day and night alike, they pay their visits,
No less when I'm awake and up, than when
In béd I lie wrapped in the arms of sleep.

Áfter I'm dead and búried I shall have

The company, they say, of one for ever,

Of which they knów not, and from that hour never

Of the other hear the voice or see the face

They say! Poor souls! they know not what they say; Once dead, farewell for ever to both angels!

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 24, 1855.

THOU hátest monótony

Right;

Uniformity still more thou hatest

Right again; but remember, Louisa,
Thou 'rt engaged to be márried tomorrow.

"Just because I monótony háte,
Just because uniformity still more
I hate and have áll my life háted,
I'm engaged to be márried tomorrow."

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 13, 1855.

UNDER A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR

IN THE FIFTYSIXTH YEAR OF HIS AGE.

THE outside rind, grown brown and chapped by time, Télls you the kérnel has just reached its prime.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 31, 1855.