Many men's minds I know full well, Yet what mine own is, cannot tell. I cannot see--my eye's too near-- And falsely to myself appear. 'Twould be to me a benefit Far from myself if I could sit, Less distant than my enemy, And yet my nearest friend's too nigh-- 'Twixt him and me, just in the middle! What do I ask for? Guess my riddle. 26. _My Cruelty._ I must ascend an hundred stairs, I must ascend: the herd declares I'm cruel: "Are we made of stone?" I must ascend an hundred stairs: All men the part of stair disown. 27. _The Wanderer._ "No longer path! Abyss and silence chilling!" Thy fault! To leave the path thou wast too willing! Now comes the test! Keep cool--eyes bright and clear! Thou'rt lost for sure, if thou permittest--fear. 28. _Encouragement for Beginners._ See the infant, helpless creeping-- Swine around it grunt swine-talk-- Weeping always, naught but weeping, Will it ever learn to walk? Never fear! Just wait, I swear it Soon to dance will be inclined, And this babe, when two legs bear it, Standing on its head you'll find. 29. _Planet Egoism._ Did I not turn, a rolling cask, Ever about myself, I ask, How could I without burning run Close on the track of the hot sun? 30. _The Neighbour._ Too nigh, my friend my joy doth mar, I'd have him high above and far, Or how can he become my star? 31. _The Disguised Saint._ Lest we for thy bliss should slay thee, In devil's wiles thou dost array thee, Devil's wit and devil's dress. But in vain! Thy looks betray thee And proclaim thy holiness. 32. _The Slave._ _A._ He stands and listens: whence his pain? What smote his ears? Some far refrain? Why is his heart with anguish torn? _B._ Like all that fetters once have worn, He always hears the clinking--chain! 33. _The Lone One._ I hate to follow and I hate to lead. Obedience? no! and ruling? no, indeed! Wouldst fearful be in others' sight? Then e'en _thyself_ thou must affright: The people but the Terror's guidance heed. I hate to guide myself, I hate the fray. Like the wild beasts I'll wander far afield. In Error's pleasing toils I'll roam Awhile, then lure myself back home, Back home, and--to my self-seduction yield. 34. _Seneca et hoc Genus omne._ They write and write (quite maddening me) Their "sapient" twaddle airy, As if 'twere _primum scribere,_ _Deinde philosophari._ 35. _Ice._ Yes! I manufacture ice: Ice may help you to digest: If you _had_ much to digest, How you would enjoy my ice! 36. _Youthful Writings._