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THE són 's a poor, wretched, unfortunate creature,
With a náme no less wretched: I-WOULD - IF - I - Could;
But the father 's rich, glórious and happy and mighty
And his terrible náme is I- COULD - IF-I-WOULD.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 12, 1855.

You don't like my writings, won't read them nor búy them;
Then dó me the fávor at least, to decrý them;
Where the praise of good judges is hárd to be hád,
The next best thing to it 's the bláme of the bád.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 8, 1855.

“I BELIÉVE it," said Faith, “though I know it 's a flat
Contradiction, and breach of supreme Nature's láws,
For I sáw it and heard it and felt it and smelt it,
And no one was wicked enough to deceive me,
And seeing and hearing and feeling and smelling
Are súrer than even supreme Nature's láws.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 1, 1855.

“ÉVEN the Lovely must die” * - To be sure, Mr. poet,
Éven the Lóvely must die; do you think we don't know it?
Yet bád as the case is -- and who doubts it 's bad?
That the Úgly should not die were something more_sad.

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MAIN Fórce with saw, hátchet and strong rope achiéved,
Much sweating, the fall of the stout-timbered cédar;
But Cúnning aboút the root dúg unperceived,
And flát with the first breath of wind fell the cédar.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 2, 1855.

In the height of his glóry said César to Cássius: “Mankind will talk of me for ever with wonder.” “To be súre, mighty César,” said Cássius, "mankind will Of thee and thy great deeds talk ever with wonder; But the wonder of wonders will still be that César, Magnánimous César, so cared to be talked of."

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 1, 1855.

* Auch das Schöne muss sterben. SCHILLER.

SLEÉP and Waking ónce a strife had :
Whích was most by Providence fávored;
Ánd with lawyerlike acúmen
Thús their séparate cáses árgued:

“I 'm the fávorite,” first said Wáking, “Fór the whole wide world 's for mé made, Earth, sun, moon, and all the little stars, Not to speák of lámp and gás light.”

“Wrétched Wáking,” said Sleep listless,
Táke thy gimcracks and my píty,
Thoú that must keep álways hámmering
Át some fiddle fáddle nonsense.

“ Take thy gimcracks pleásure, prófit,
Science, learning máke much of them;
Ádd if it please thee lábor, énnui,
Sorrow, pain and thirst and hunger.

“Here at ease upon this bench stretched
Fór thy whole world Í no stráw care,
Ór, if só be thé whim táke me,
Háve it in my dreams for nothing;

“In my dreams have pleasures, riches,
Wisdom, fáme, and power and knowledge,
Double, triple, hundredfóld more
Tháneer fell to thy lot, Waking.

“f take wing and through the air fly,
Ór with fíns glide through the water,
Ór turn pátriot and my fingers
Ráddle with the blood of César,

“Yét no risk


míne not thine are Heáven and earth, time past and présent Good bye, Wáking; whát need more words? Theé thy work calls, mé siésta.”

Scárce had Sleep the last word úttered,
Úp came Nightmare, hideous grinning,
Ảnd about Sleep’s néck a noóse threw
Ánd began with main force púlling.

"Sáve me, sáve me," criéd Sleep hálf choked
“Whó 's God's fávorite now?” said Wáking
Ás he cut the noóse and saved Sleep
Ánd drove off the grinning monster.


While there 's one drop in the bóttle
This life 's still a life of pleásure,
Full of promise still the future;
Lét the lást drop leave the bottle
Ảnd the dáy grows dárk and heávy,
There will be a stórm tomorrow.

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PFEDDERSHEIM in the PALATINÁTE, July 15, 1855.

"IF rightly on my theme I think,
There are five reasons why men drink:
Good wine; a friend; because I 'm dry;
Or lest I should be, by and by;
Or any other reason why.”

If rightly on my theme I think,
There is but one reason why men drink;
And that one reason is, I think
Why, just because men like to drink.

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