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PASKEWITSCH
Restless as billows of the sea
TRUE FRIENDS.
TICK TICK TICK.
í, being a bóy, used thus to count my fingers
“Whý 's a priest like a fingerpost, you dunce ?”
There was a curious creature
THE GAP IN THE CLOUDS .
În mine inn I'll tåke mine esse
A double folly how to cook
Said Vinegar-cruet to Mustard - pot once
Tén broad stéps there is tó my ládder
BEERDRINKER'S SONG. UNDER A PICTURE OF GAMBRINUS.
Ónce it happened i was walking
The húman skull is of deceit
I am a versemaker by trade
ST. ARNAUD.
Sometimes I 've with my Muse a miff
Sweet breathes the hawthorn in the early spring
King Wall his seat in royal state
Well, it is a darling creature!
WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT PREDAZZO.
Within the convent of Johannathal
I like the Belgian cleanliness and comfort
WRITTEN UNDER A PORTRAIT OF CARDINAL MEZZOFANTI
Once on a time it happened as I was lounging in the Vatican .
I wish I were that little mouse.
TO THE KEY OF MY STRONG BOX.
As my dóg and my cát.
A NIGHT IN MY INN.
THE RECRUIT. .
HEAVEN.
SECOND THOUGHTS.
What dog is that, Sir, tell me, pray
"If well thou wouldst get through this troublesome world”
Another and another and another
Get úp, fool, from your bended knee
THE WAY TO HEAVEN.
THE BEGGAR AND THE BISHOP.
Tóngueless thou 'st yét a triple voice, gray lock
INSCRIPTION FOR THE TOMBSTONE OE MARAT.
Lét men boast their Brútus
í don't know thee, Sorrow
Ah! it is háted dáybreak

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Pago I would not believe it

105 BETROTHED MAIDEN SINGS.

107 Eát your oáts, my póny

108 EMIGRANT SINGS.

109 MOTHER'S PRAYER FOR HER CHILD.

109 THE SOLDIER AND THE BRIGAND.

110 TO MY GRAY BEARD.

111 EVENING ODE.

113 Saturdáy clothed in plain drúgget

114 Well now I 'm sure I don't know why in the world it was pút there 118 Ón the dáy before the first day

121 Dire Ambition úp hill toiling

129 Ivy LEAF

130 Whý paint Deáth the king of térrors ? .

132 There was a time when to our view

133 “Týrant, I 'll have my rights;" I once heard say.

134 Do good to your friend and hé 'll do good to you

134 LUCIUS JUNIUS BRUTUS.

135 Draw back from the mirror; your image recédes

135 MY SISTER MARY'S DOG RAP.

136 THE AUTHOR'S EPITAPH. .

136 CONTENTION BETWEEN NOSE AND EYES FOR THE SPECTACLES.

137 There 's nothing I so much admire .

139 From his shroud the dead man peéping

140 What benéficent Jóve was 't, or Búddh or Osíris . TRAY.

141 No more questions, good friend, no more questions, I práy

143 'Tis the little boy láshing his tóp in the court

143 Ás in Tibur's pleasant villa.

144 'Twas on the First of Jánuary early in the morning

145 The són 's a poor, wrétched, unfortunate creáture

148 You don't like my writings, won't read them nor búy them

148 “I believe it,” said Faith, “though I know it 's a flát .

148 "Éven the Lóvely must die” To be sure, Mr. poet

149 Main Fórce with saw, bátchet and strong rope achieved

149 In the height of his glóry said César to Cássius

149 Sleep and Wáking once a strífe had

150 While there is one drop in the bottle

152 If rightly on my theme I think

152 He's dead these long ages, and all his bones mouldered .

153 That I 'm much praised by men of little sense

153 “Pagan, forsake your Góds,” the Christian cries

153 LETTER RECEIVED

154 “Obéy;" said Majority once to Minority

158 Beware how you attempt the world to cheat

158

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FROM A REVIEWER.

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Page “See before thee,” said Hópe, “where the pleasant light yonder

159 With pållid lip quívering and fíery eye flashing

159 Pást Time 's dead and gone, and búried, and the réquiem sung óver her.

159 HAMLET.

160 ROMEO AND JULIET.

164 THE TEMPEST.

168 KING HENRY THE EIGHTH.

171 Here I go up and down, hop, hop, hóp

173 AUF WIEDERSEH'N!.

174 TO HOFRATH SÜPFLE AND HIS DAUGHTER EMILIA.

174 TO PROFESSOR GRATZ, ON MY LEAVING CARLSRUHE, Aug. 16, 1855

175 August the Twenty Third, in Tübingen

175 TO DOCTOR E. TAFEL, ON MY LEAVING TÜBINGEN, Aug. 31, 1855

176 “So there 's an end!” said I, and from the grave

176 LUCEM PEROSUS.

177 Why so shy of death, sweet infant? .

178 Acúte, obsérvant, witty and profound

179 “Téll me, Quintus,” once said Vírgil

180 Ásk me not whát her náme was ít 's small matter

181 She néver in her whole life wrote one stánza

181 They say I 'm of a Propaganda school

182 Ínto two clásses all men Í divide

182 IN FRÄULEIN JULIE FINCKH'S ALBUM

182 PROVIDENCE versus CHANCE AND FATE

183 No wonder, reáder, that from all I say

183 INSCRIPTION FOR A LUCIFER - MATCH Box. (1).

183 Ón my bed.

184 These vérses reád, and, having read, tell me

188 This world 's so fast progréssing I do not despair to seé yet

190 The coachman drives, the horses draw, the carriage carries Díves 191 Wouldst thou convince the doubting world thou 'rt truly.

191 There are two sisters; one with bright.

192 In Róme's old dáys of glóry, when a cítizen thought fít

193 MUSINANDO.

194 THE ASTRONOMERS .

196 Wéll to get through this world there is one receipt

197 INSCRIPTION FOR A LUCIFER-MATCH BOX. (11).

198 Clever people are disagreeable, always taking the advantage of you . 199 Right for you 's wrong for mé.

200 ""Stop! stáy! let ’s consíder!” cried Írresolution

200 Summer 's gone fled away with his lílies and roses

201 MARBACH .

202 Óver hill and plain and válley

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Téll me not how much thou lóv'st me.
Í 'll not téll thee hów I lóve thee
ANNIVERSARY OF SCHILLER'S BIRTHDAY. STUTTGART, Nov. 10, 1855
Oút of the gráve I took for love thy body
Go tó, that thínk'st of Tíme as of a thing
ADVICE.
TO JUSTINUS KERNER, THE SUABIAN POET.
Ás in the printed volume every piece.
DIE WEIBERTREUE
Rechts steht der Aberglaube, Alles glaubend
Der Abergläub’ge glaubt zu viel .
Warum, mein Kind, sehn'st du dich so nach Oben ?
TÜBINGEN.
In the name of Gód we bind thee to this stake
CASSANDRA.
“What 's the reason, Prométheus," once said Epimétheus .
O inscrútable justice and mercy and wisdom!
Whíther in such húrry
TO JUSTINUS KERNER, THE SUABIAN POET, ON HIS SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY.
What 's this? a cóffined córpse? no, rather say,
The caúse I'd fain know
BAWSINT MALKIN.
His máster dead, poor Snap with troubled eye .
Goethe, thou sáy'st a poem was never good.
TO A POET ABOUT TO WRITE IN A LADY'S NEW ALBUM.
CESAR AND CASSIUS.
INSCRIPTION FOR A LUCIFER MATCH BOX. (III).
Othello says: Thy purse is trash
So many máps, guides, sígnposts point the way
As I walked by the hédge
QUIVIS AND QUILIBET.
Pleasure líves not one instant expires in the birth
Give us beauty we cáre not for strength .
Évery thing télls on críme; the prince that kissed
A QUEER FELLOW
The sún shines on me all the day
To William, half in jest and half in earnest
Man 's a hámmer, thou sảy'st, made to hámmer hard nature
Shadow 's néver far from súnshine
JARVIE TIME.
That mán 's worth millions, but that man 's unworthy.
As long as thou faithfully lóv'st me.
In this ápple 's a core, in that core there 's a pippin
EXPERIENCE. (II).
AD CONSCIA SIDERA.

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If thou wouldst please the Góds thou must contrive
So it 's húnger and lóve keep all going .
He's not a wise man thinks much of the past
INSCRIPTION FOR THE DOOR OF A CLUB ROOM.
JEHU.
Farewéll for ever, and sometimes a sigh
Modest, míld, unpreténding, observant, inventive
All the good which we see in this world proves God's goodness
Arabella my sóng read
TO FRÄULEIN EMILIA SÜPFLE, CARLSRUHE, Nov. 19, 1855.
See yonder státely, spreading tree
Two ángels, séparate or together, páy me
Thou hátest monótony Right
UNDER A PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR.
Forget néver to hold thyself évenly balanced
Well! great poets don't álways the best sense indíte!
What a píty thou 'rt childless! thou 'dst beén a kind párent
PROMETHEOMASTIX
“There it is, Ma!” said Cúpid, showing Vénus a thórn
Nó! no! nó! I 'll not believe it
OPTIO JULIANI.
“When thínk'st thou will áll men be of one opinion ?”.
I tenderly love thee, and pledge thee my tróth
I swear what I know, that I tenderly love thee
LOVE.
BEAUTY.
Othéllo first loved Desdemona, then hated
Put thy faith in the miracle, friend
The embryo in the womb or newly bórn .
And só into Kunigund's lovely fáce.
Mán with sagácious forethought penetrates
May I bég to ask whý thou preférrest me, Múse!
TO THE DEPARTING YEAR 1855.
TO THE COMING YEAR 1856.
Árt thou happy? loók not backward
ON READING GOETHE'S ELEGIES.
THE FIRST ROSE OF SUMMER.
INSCRIPTION FOR A LAMP.
The ágitating problem which of all.
From blank nought to the womb, from the womb to the cradle
Of threé dear maíds, whose lóvely fáces
Bad vérses, Sir póet; there never were worse
Here I am, your thimblerígger, kind gentlemen and ladies
When every one of us has got his just rights
The great Róman dictátor, his baldness to hide
All Césars since Július have worn the laur'l wreath

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