LOVE.

Two things there are called love: th' internal feéling, Ínstinct or passionate impulse, dirus ámor,

Ánd the extérnal object, alma venus,

Which rouses in the mind its slúmbering ámor.
In all the outward world there 's not one object
But may awake in some one mind its amor,
And for the nónce be of that mind the vénus,
The Laúra of that Petrarch; till the mind,
Changed from within, or 'tmáy be, from without,
(For either or both ways all minds are always,
Mórning and noón and night, sleeping and waking,
Summer and winter, álways álways changing)
Ópens the door no longer to the call,

Or, if it opens, ánswers: Nót at home;
Upón a journey, sick or deád is ámor.
But not upon a journey, sick or dead

Is amor, but at home, snug, and still ready

To answer joyful to its vénus' call,

Provided only 'tis its venus calls,

And not that which has ceased to be its venus.

Away then with the vów of love perpetual,

Or be the only thing which changes nót,

Though all the time thou 'rt that which changes móst, In all this living, ánd, or 'twére not living,

Perpétually restless, changing world.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 26, 1855.

BEAUTY.

THERE ȧre two beaúties: óne the extérnal kalon;
The other the sweet séntiment of beauty
Raised in the mind by that extérnal kalon.

In all the multitudinous variety

Of minds and objects in this infinite world
There's not a mind but finds some beauteous object,

There's not an object but finds some one mind
In which to excite the sentiment of beauty.
Go tó! go tó! ye small philosophers,
Teachers of pósitive beaúty, who know nót
That whatsoever raises in one mind,
One single mind, the most uncultivated,
The sentiment of beaúty, thát is beauty
As trúly as was ever Plato's kalon.
Vain, vain, your legislation; ye cannot
Set up a Rene court to say what 's beauty,
And dictate to the mind how it shall feel.
Máke, if ye please, societies to adore

This or that beaúty, and be ye the priests;
Mind is above your sects, and forms of faith,
And what it beautiful or ugly feels,

That beautiful or ugly is, despite ye.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 26, 1855.

OTHELLO first loved Desdemóna, then hated;

In both he was acted on, ácted in neither:

He went down on his knees and vowed álways to love her;
Fool, that knew not to love was to súffer, not dó!
He swóre with uplifted hand, álways to háte her;
Fool, that knéw not to háte was to suffer, not dó!

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 29, 1855.

"PUT thy faith in the miracle, friend;
Unimpeachable witnesses mány

Testify to its trúth."

Shall I thén from the moúth of another
Accépt that as fact, which I wouldn't

From mine own eyes accépt?

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 25, 1855.

THE émbryo in the womb or newly bórn

Has nó mind scárce even stúff enough to make one; The fragrance is not shut up in the bud

But by the búd formed gradual, as it opens. The mind 's the éffluence of the perfect body, The essential frágrance of the fúll blown flower. CARLSRUHE, Dec. 31, 1855.

"Und er wirft ihr den Handschuh ins Gesicht."

SCHILLER, Der Handschuh.

AND só into Kúnigund's lovely fáce,

Sir Delorges, thou thréwest the glove!
Must thoú be ungállant because she was báse?
Kunigúnd had small lóss of thy love.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 14, 1855.

MÁN with sagácious forethought penetrates

Ínto the sécrets of the days to come,
Hólds with reténtive memory the past,
And all things round him to his use adapts
With wonderworking wisdom, skill and power,
And reigns on earth, a God; until perchance
A pín his finger prick, or a cold wind.
Blów in his fáce, and then, poor man! he dies,
And sádly goes to heaven to reign again.

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 12, 1855.

MAY I beg to ask why thou preférrest me, Múse!

To so many who 're wiser and better?

"I don't knów; I'm not sure; but I 've heard people say That truelove 's of truelove the begétter."

CARLSRUHE, Dec. 30, 1855.