THE GAP IN THE CLOUDS.*

Ir happened as one summer day I walked
From Küssnacht round the Righi's foot to Schwyz,
Ánd had behind me left Tell's Hollow Way
Ánd the green, sloping banks of Zug's clear lake,
That looking up I saw a gap in the clouds
And asking what had made it, was informed
'Twas left there by the fall of Rossberg mountain
Whose ruins strewed the valley at my feet.
Doúbting, as usual, and incredulous,
Again I looked up, at and through the gap,
And saw beyond it in the clear, blue ether
The figure of a man with open shirtneck,
Seated and writing something upon papers
Which ever and anon down through the gap
He scattered to the ground. One near me fallen
I picked up, curious, and began to read;

But being no lover of non sequiturs

And Béggings of the Argument and mean

And vulgar thoughts dressed up in melodrame,

*Mountains have fallen

Leaving a gap in the clouds, and with the shock
Rocking their Alpine brethren; filling up

The ripe green valleys with destruction's splinters,
Damming the rivers with a sudden dash

thus,

Which crushed the waters into mist, and made
Their fountains find another channel
Thus, in its old age, did Mount Rosenberg.

BYRON.

And not being over patient of bad English,
And holding still that sapere is the basis
Of all good writing whether prose or verse,
I soón grew weary and threw down the paper,
And on my way to Schwyz sped and no more
Thought of the gap in the clouds or of the writer.

Walking from KÜSSNACHT to LUCERNE, Sept. 21, 1854.

"I'll take mine ease in mine inn."

IN mine inn I'll take mine eáse,
fn mine inn do what I please;
Ín mine inn my pípe I 'll smoke,
Read the news and cráck my jóke,
Eát my púdding, drink my wine,
Go to bed when I incline,
And if Í the bármaid kiss
Whó 's to say I did amíss?

When to visit yoú I gó

Knock knock knóck! door 's ánswered slów:

"Máster Mistress nót at hóme;

Don't know whén back they will cóme;

Cáll again at six, seven, eight;

Álmost súre they 'll stay out láte."

When to visit mé you cóme
Ánd by chance find mé at hóme
Í must sit and wait on you
Máybe a good hoúr or twó;
Lét my business préss or nót
Thére I am, nailed to the spót,

And my wife and children toó,
Paying compliments to you.

Tó my ínn door when I cóme

enquíre not whó 's at home,

Walk in straight, hang up my hát,

Órder this and órder thát,

Right before the fire sit down,

Cáll the waiter loút and lówn
if I must five minutes wait
Ére the chóp smokes ón my pláte.

Hím that first invénted inns
Gód forgive him áll his síns;
When he comes to Páradise gáte,
Early let it bé or láte,

Good Saint Péter, ópen straight;
"Twére a sháme to máke him wait
Whose house doór stood open still;
I'll go bail he'll pay his bill.

Ín mine ínn I'll take mine ease,
Ín mine ínn do what I please,
Ín mine ínn I'll have my fling,

Laúgh and dance and play and sing

Till the júgs and glásses ring,

Ánd not énvy queén or king.

Walking from RANKACH over the FREIERSBERG to OPPENAU in the BLACK

FOREST (BADEN), Octob. 11, 1854.

A DOUBLE folly how to cook

If you desire to know,

You'll find it in a cookery book
That some score years ago

Was printed for the use of cooks
Who well had learned to read;
I've tried it often, and still found
The récipé succeed.

You'll take the first young man you meet
That's handsome and well made,

And dréss him in a brán - new suit
Of clothes of any shade;

But blue and drab, or brown and white,

Is said to be the best;

His gloves must be of yellow kid,
Of patterned silk his vest.

His glossy, lacquered boots, too small
To hold with ease his toes,

Should glance and sparkle in the sun
At évery step he goes.

Both cheeks should be scraped close and clean,

But I advise you spare

Just in the middle of his chin

One little tuft of hair;

And leave upon his upper lip

Enough to take a twirl

In áll as múch hair as may show
He's not all oút a girl.

And then you'll teach him airs genteel,

And words of import small

About religion, politics,

Ánd the last fancy-ball.

When your young mán is thus prepared,

Look round until you find

A máte for him as suitable

In pérson as in mind.

Simple and dignified must be

Her boarding-school-taught mien, And for the last five years her age Sómething about eighteen.

She must have learned a mincing gait,
And not to swing her arms;
And can she sit bolt úpright straight
"Twill double all her charms.

Ígnorance of things she knows right well
Her looks must always show,
And things she 's wholly ignorant of
She must pretend to know.

Néver must shé behind her look

While walking in the street;

Her eyes and those of a young man
Must néver, never meet.