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Epigrams.

In these numbers be express’d

Meaning deep, ’neath merry jest.

TO ORIGINALS.

AFELLOW says: “I own no school or college;
No master lives whom I acknowledge;
And pray don’t entertain the thought
That from the dead I e’er learn’d aught.”
This, if I rightly understand,
Means: “I’m a blockhead at first hand.”

THE SOLDIER’S CONSOLATION.

NO! in truth there’s here no lack:
White the bread, the maidens black!
To another town, next night:
Black the bread, the maidens white!

GENIAL IMPULSE.

THUS roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes,
Now serious am, now seek to please;
Now love and hate in turns one sees;
The motives now are those, now these;
Now nothings, now realities.
Thus roll I, never taking ease,
My tub, like Saint Diogenes.

NEITHER THIS NOR THAT.

IF thou to be a slave should’st will,
Thou’lt get no pity, but fare ill;
And if a master thou would’st be,
The world will view it angrily;
And if in statu quo thou stay,
That thou art but a fool, they’ll say.

THE WAY TO BEHAVE.

THOUGH tempers are bad, and peevish folks swear,
Remember to ruffle thy brows, friend, ne’er;
And let not the fancies of women so fair
E’er serve thy pleasure in life to impair.

THE BEST.

WHEN head and heart are busy, say,
What better can be found?
Who neither loves nor goes astray,
Were better under ground.

AS BROAD AS IT’S LONG.

MODEST men must needs endure,
And the bold must humbly bow;
Thus thy fate’s the same, be sure,
Whether bold or modest thou.

CALM AT SEA.

- SILENCE deep rules o’er the waters,
- Calmly slumb’ring lies the main,
- While the sailor views with trouble
- Naught but one vast level plain.
- Not a zephyr is in motion!
- Silence fearful as the grave!
- In the mighty waste of ocean
- Sunk to rest is ev’ry wave.
- BE who with life makes sport
- Can prosper never,
- Who rules himself in naught,
- Is a slave ever.

THE RULE OF LIFE.

IF thou would’st live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee e’er;
As little as possible be thou annoy’d,
And let the present be ever enjoy’d;
Ne’er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.

THE SAME, EXPANDED.

IF thou would’st live unruffled by care,
Let not the past torment thee e’er;
If any loss thou hast to rue,
Act as though thou wert born anew;
Inquire the meaning of each day:
What each day means, itself will say;
In their own actions take thy pleasure,
What others do, thou’lt duly treasure,
Ne’er let thy breast with hate be supplied,
And to God the future confide.

GOOD wine is drunken everywhere.
For gracefulest cup the toper’s no seeker;
But if my wine shall taste me fair,
Give me a costly Grecian beaker.

THE FAIR AT HUEHENEFELD.

July 25th, 1814.

I WENT with haughty nonchalance
To give the Fair a passing glance,
To see the pedlers at the booths,
And, using old Lavater’s truths,
Once whisper’d in my ear, to try
If I were wise yet. Bluff’d was I.
The first I saw were soldiers gay,
Dress’d in their very best array.
The stress and strain of war was done;
They had no wish for another begun.
Their fine coats for the girls had charms,
Who threw themselves in the soldiers’ arms.
Peasant and burgher stood amaz’d;
The excellent lads were almost daz’d;
Their pennies and pains were thoroughly wasted;
The cup of glory they had not tasted.
And so for the end they all stood waiting,
Not quite pleas’d in contemplating.
Matrons and maidens with repose
Fitted themselves with wooden sabots.
You could see by their gestures, by their faces,
That their hopes were set in lofty places.

artist: h. kaulbach.

MAIDEN WISHES.

THE LITTLE GIRL’S WISH.

OH, would that some friend
A husband would send!
’Tis such a nice game,
Mamma is my name.
One needs not to go
To school or to sew!
Then one can command;
Has servants at hand!
Can choose her own dresses,
And, what I confess is
The nicest, have candy
And sugar-plums handy;
And go out to ride;
And at balls be a bride;
And not have to ask
Papa and mamma, or be taken to task.

EPITAPH.

AS a boy, reserv’d and naughty;
As a youth, a coxcomb and haughty;
As a man, for action inclin’d;
As a graybeard, fickle in mind.—
Upon thy grave will people read:
This was a very man, indeed!

ADMONITION.

WHEREFORE ever ramble on?
For the Good is lying near.
Fortune learn to seize alone,
For that Fortune’s ever here.

MY ONLY PROPERTY.

I FEEL that I’m possess’d of naught,
Saving the free unfetter’d thought
Which from my bosom seeks to flow,
And each propitious passing hour
That suffers me in all its power
A loving fate with truth to know.

OLD AGE.

OLD age is courteous—no one more:
For time after time he knocks at the door,
But nobody says, “Walk in, sir, pray!”
Yet turns he not from the door away,
But lifts the latch, and enters with speed,
And then they cry, “A cool one, indeed!”

COURAGE.

- CARELESSLY over the plain away,
- Where by the boldest man no path
- Cut before thee thou canst discern,
- Make for thyself a path!
- Silence, lov’d one, my heart!
- Cracking, let it not break!
- Breaking, break not with thee!

RULE FOR MONARCHS.

IF men are never their thoughts to employ,
Take care to provide them a life full of joy;
But if to some profit and use thou would’st bend them,
Take care to shear them, and then defend them.

MEMORIES.

- THE remembrance of the Good
- Keeps us ever glad in mood.
- The remembrance of the Fair
- Makes a mortal rapture share.
- The remembrance of one’s Love
- Bless’d is, if it constant prove.
- The remembrance of the One
- Is the greatest joy that’s known.

PAULO POST FUTURI.

WEEP ye not, ye children dear,
That as yet ye are unborn:
For each sorrow and each tear
Makes the father’s heart to mourn.
Patient be a short time to it,
Unproduc’d, and known to none;
If your father cannot do it,
By your mother ’twill be done.

THE FOOL’S EPILOGUE.

- MANY good works I’ve done and ended,
- Ye take the praise—I’m not offended;
- For in the world, I’ve always thought
- Each thing its true position hath sought.
- When prais’d for foolish deeds am I,
- I set off laughing heartily;
- When blam’d for doing something good,
- I take it in an easy mood.
- If some one stronger gives me hard blows,
- That it’s a jest, I feign to suppose;
- But if ’tis one that’s but my own like,
- I know the way such folks to strike.
- When Fortune smiles, I merry grow,
- And sing in dulci jubilo;
- When sinks her wheel, and tumbles me o’er,
- I think ’tis sure to rise once more.
- In the sunshine of summer I ne’er lament,
- Because the winter it cannot prevent;
- And when the white snow-flakes fall around,
- I don my skates, and am off with a bound.
- Though I dissemble as I will,
- The sun for me will ne’er stand still;
- The old and wonted course is run,
- Until the whole of life is done;
- Each day the servant like the lord
- In turns comes home, and goes abroad;
- If proud or humble the line they take,
- They all must eat, drink, sleep and wake.
- So nothing ever vexes me;
- Act like the fool, and wise ye’ll be!

ON THE DIVAN.

- HE who knows himself and others
- Here will also see,
- That the East and West, like brothers,
- Parted ne’er shall be.
- Thoughtfully to float forever
- ’Tween two worlds, be man’s endeavor
- So between the East and West
- To revolve, be my behest!

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