TO THE DEPARTING YEAR 1855.

FAREWELL! and though thou tak'st not with thee all
The weight of sorrow thou brought'st with thee, coming,
But ták'st instead some of my bodily strength,
Sóme of my látest dárk hairs and skin's freshness,
Yet gó in peace; for thou hast left untouched
My nóbler part, and what thou 'st taken from me.
In thew and color, paid me in my child,

I cannot say with an illiberal hand.

Gó then in peace; I'll think of thee at times,
Perhaps at times regret thee - fare thee well!

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.

TO THE COMING YEAR 1856.

THOU 'rt wélcome, stránger! enter, and the place Fill, while thou stáy'st, of thy depárted brother; Not wholly good was he, nor whólly bád, A mixture like myself of strong and weak, Of worse and better; but no more of him, He 's góne not to return, and thou com'st now With thy fair prómises of perfect goodness. Well well, we'll see; thou too shalt have thy trial, And when we come to part that will be knowledge Which now 's no more than mingled hope and fear; Meanwhile step in, and lét 's be better acquainted. CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.

ÁRT thou happy? look not backward
Ón the joys thou 'st left behind thee;
Árt thou happy? look not forward
To the end of áll joy cóming.

Árt thou wretched? thén look backward
Ón the pain thou 'st left for éver;
Árt thou wrétched? thén look forward
To the end of áll pain cóming.

Árt thou happy bóth and wrétched,
Look about thee, round on áll sides;
What seest thoú but others like thee,
Wretched pártly, pártly happy?

Without Happy there 's no Wretched,
Without Wrétched thére 's no Happy;
There's a trué Heaven and a trué Hell,
And thou hast them bóth already.

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 5, 1856.

ON READING GOETHE'S ELEGIES.

FIE, Goethe! I knew not until today

Thou wast given to migrate out of thy fair palace
And take thy lódging in a filthy sty

--

Fie, Goethe! from henceforth we 're less good friends;

And yét ere now I have at times suspected

Thou wást not áll gold, often missed in thee
The cláng of the pure metal, often spied
The dusk hue of the copper at thy rim.

Perhaps even therefore art thou the more current,
For nót who has féwest faults or greatest virtues
Álways most pleases, but whose mind to ours
Closest assimilates; perhaps even therefore
Hast thou attracted só the not too fine
Discérning, or requiring, princely eye,

And by the princely eye been so attracted

A sócio nóscitur, and like to like

And in more courts than Weimar's have been blended The odours of the sty and the parterre.

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 6, 1856.

'Tis the first rose of summer, shy peeping half-blówn,
And scárcely quite súre yet, the cold winter 's gone;
Fear nothing, new cómer; there's no danger nigh
Every day the air 's sófter, and brighter the sky.

Thou shalt not long hang lónely, shalt not long thy bloóm
Singly spread to the sún, singly shéd thy perfume,
For I see yonder cóming, like theé fresh and faír,
Thy sisters in clústers to adórn the partérre.

With them bloom together, with them fade and dié;
And só, lovely róse, may my heart's friends and Í,
When we 've happy together the lóng summer pássed,
Together drop into the earth's lap at lást.

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 8, 1856.

INSCRIPTION FOR A LAMP.

YE álmost máke a Gód of Sól,
Who bút by day gives light;

What worthy praise have yé for mé,
Who into day turn night?

CARLSRUHE, Jan. 27, 1856.