Sure to break forth as soon as the favorable opportunity

presents itself

And astonish the world perhaps with a second

going to say Don Juan,

I was

But, as I hate hyperbole and love to be within the mark, I'll say -- with a second Thalaba or Antient Mariner or Excúrsion;

Glorious consummation! which the kind Fates have, no doubt, in resérve for you

If in the meantime you 're content to live upon hope, and don't too much economize mídnight oil.

[HEIDELBERG, July 26, 1855.]

"OBÉY;" said Majority once to Minórity;

"To be sure," said Minórity, "for thou 'rt the strongest."
"Not because I the strongest am," answered Majority,
"But because I'm the wisest, it 's thine to obey."

"Right again," said Minority híding a slý smile,
"Wise men álways were númerous, foóls always féw."

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 1, 1855.

BEWARE how you attempt the world to cheat,
Lést yourself suffer by your own deceit:

Yoú cheat the world; back from the world to you
Retúrns your lie and you believe it true.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 9, 1855.

"SEE before thee," said Hópe, "where the pleasant light yónder,

More bright every móment, disperses the darkness."
But Fear cried: "Beware! for the light but looks brighter
Because, on all sides round, the darkness so deépens."

Dalkey Lodge, DALKEY, April 1, 1855.

WITH pallid lip quívering and fiery eye flashing,
Wrath rushed on his víctim and brándished the knife;
But Pity with noiseless step stóle up behind him
And wrénched the blade from him and smiled in his fáce.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY, April 1, 1855.

PAST TIME 's dead and gone, and búried, and the réquiem

FUTURE TIME 's not bórn yet, and who knows how úgly she

may be?

So give me a kiss, sweet PRÉSENT, and let 's happy be together Óne, two, three, and begin again thoú 'rt the girl for mý

HEIDELBERG, July 25, 1855.*

THE

HAMLET.

He king of Denmark 's múrdered by his brother; The brother dons his crown, marries his widow; Nó one suspects the deed, till at deep midnight The ghost, in suit complete of burnished steel, From purgatory comes and fires sulphureous To tell his son, young Hamlet, the whole story, And rouse his youthful blood to similar deed. The prince falls into a mighty, towering passion, And hates mankind, and wishes he was dead, And damns his uncle, and will surely kill him, Nót at his prayers, for not to heaven he 'd send him, Bút in the midst of some unfinished lust

Fall on him and direct to hell despátch him.

Slów on the hot resolve follows the deed

Limping, for wisely thus the youth bethinks him:

"Hów, if my wicked uncle kill me first,

Mé ere I hím? where then were my revenge,
The credit and the glory of this deed,
The duty to my parent and my parent's
Unhappy ghost, my piety toward heaven,
The example to the world, and to my mother.
The lash of scorpions, wielded by her son?
For I've no son to whom if I were murdered
My ghost might come to hie him on to murder
Mý murderer; and if I had such son,
Hów can I know he would believe my ghost?
Which gives me room to think: what if this ghost

I saw last night were not my father's ghost,
But some malignant spirit sent from hell

With lies to tempt me to my uncle's murder.
So charily, good Hamlet; softly tread;

Tést the ghost's tále, and take care of thy head.

And so most careful cautious of his head

Hámlet goes mad, for kings suspect not madmen,
And many a wise and many a mad thing says,
Wise at this móment, raving mad the next;
And, lighting by good fortune on a pack
Of strolling players, sets about to teach them
With such consummate skill their proper art
That you are tempted to accuse dame Nature
Of having by some blunder made a king's son,
When she had taken in hand to make a player.
Playwriter, next, and manager become,
The versatile youth into his players' play
Intércalates the scene of his father's murder.
The uncle blenches; the ghost's credit 's stamped;
But, lack a day! the unlucky birdcatcher,
Just as he thinks he has but to bag his bird,
Falls into his own springe and is bagged himself,
And off to England à la Bellerophon packed;
But not before in one of his feigned fits

He has killed his truelove's, sweet Ophelia's, father,
Taking him for the king, and her chaste ear,
His own Ophelia's innocent, chaste ear,
With ribaldry polluted and audacious,
Counterfeit madness, till he drives her mad,
And in a pond, poor soul! she drowns herself,
Singing lorn ditties, and one true heart adds
To the long coúnt of trué hearts cracked by love.

Meantime not idly in his cabin chewing

The tedium of his voyage sits young Hamlet,

But, seizing occupation pat at hand,

The seal breaks of his uncle's missives - reads,
And to the deep consigns, his own death-warrant,
Ánd with a reády, fair, and clerklike hand,

Fór he's a clérk too, writes out the death -warrant
Of his escort, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern;
Fórges the king's sign manual, and affixes

The royal seal; and, having scarce taken time
To palm upon his escort the forged packet,
Jumps into a boarding pirate and is carried
Sólus to Dénmark back; bidding God speed
And safe return home, to the two brave youths,
The interesting Danish Siamese twins,
Good Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern,
Who, holding on their voyage, and delivering
To England's majesty the fraternal missives,
By England's majesty have their heads instanter
And without further ceremony chopped off-
Hurráh for England! móre power to thee, Hamlet!

The first act of our story with a ghost,

A grisly ghost, began; come with me now,
Kind reader, that is if thou 'rt not afraid,
Ínto a churchyard where good Christians lie
Waiting the final trump to rise to glory.
Hére in his splenetic mood arrives young Hamlet,
And standing on the edge of the deep grave
That 's waiting for his injured, sweet Ophelia,
Begins to crack jokes with the base grave-diggers,
Make puns, say witty things, and moralize

Át the expense of frail humanity's relics,

Till the corpse cómes; then down into the grave Leaps in the desperation of his sorrow,

And, cóllared on the coffin by the brother,