IN A VOLUME OF GOETHE Wins the believing child with wondrous tales; And crowds a history into a glance; Spies oversea the fires of the mountain; 373 When thrushes ope their throat, 't is he that sings, And he that paints the oriole's fiery wings. In my coat I bore this book, And seldom therein could I look, Heaven and earth to eat and drink. RICHES HAVE ye seen the caterpillar Have ye seen the butterfly In braw claithing drest? The poor man crawls in web of rags But when he flees on riches' wings, PHILOSOPHER PHILOSOPHERS are lined with eyes within, To catch the unconscious heart in the very act. His mother died, the only friend he had,Some tears escaped, but his philosophy Couched like a cat sat watching close behind And throttled all his passion. Is't not like That devil-spider that devours her mate Scarce freed from her embraces ? 1 INTELLECT GRAVELY it broods apart on joy, LIMITS WHO knows this or that? Hark in the wall to the rat: Since the world was, he has gnawed; What dost thou know? In the wretched little beast Is life and heart, Child and parent, Not without relation To fruitful field and sun and moon. INSCRIPTION FOR A WELL IN MEMORY OF THE MARTYRS OF THE WAR FALL, stream, from Heaven to bless; return as well; So did our sons; Heaven met them as they fell. THE EXILE (AFTER TALIESSIN) THE heavy blue chain Of the boundless main Didst thou, just man, endure. I HAVE an arrow that will find its mark, |