Obrázky na stránke
PDF
ePub

That I can't get one word out of her let me teaze her as I may
Except "Please let me alone, Sir," and "I'll do no work today.”
And as for the Consulta, it doesn't consult with me,

And if it did I doubt me much 'twere long ere we 'd agree.
And then as to his Holiness, I hope you don't suppose"
And here I looked as wise as I could and clapped my finger
on my nose

"Dear Sir, has anything happened or do you anything know?" "Not I indeed, my good friend, or I'd have told you long ago; But this much I can tell you and I doubt not but it 's true, And remember what I say now 's strictly between me and you: This building here 's the Vatican, this city is called Rome And mum about his Holiness until we both get home." Walking from WORMS to KREUZNACH in RHENISH PRUSSIA, Oct. 27-28, 1854.

I WISH I wére that little mouse
Thát no rent pays for his house,
That neither sows nor reaps nor tills,
Bút his plump, round belly fills
With cheesepárings or a slice,
Léft on my pláte, of bacon nice.
Soón as spread night's raven shades
Ánd to bed are boys and maids
And sílence the whole house pervades,
Moúsey póps nose, whiskers out,

Sniffs the air and looks about
The coast is clear; right joyfully

Oút on the carpet canters he
To take his pleasure all the night
And spórt aboút till morning light.
He has not on lazy groom to wait,
Coáchman and équipage of state;

He has not to shave, brush, tie cravat,
Look for gloves, cane, cárds and hat,
This countermánd and order that,

But always ready dressed and trim,

'And sleek and smooth, sound wind and limb,
Springs out light-heárt upon the floor,
Cápers from window to the door,

From door to window, many a race
Takes round the washboard and surbáse,
Nibbles the crúst I 've purposely

Dropped on the crumbcloth while at tea,
Climbs up the wainscot, and a swing
Véntures upon the béllpull ring;
Or scales the leg of the escritoire,
Squeezes intó th' half open drawer,
Among the papers plays about

A minute or two, then scampers out,
And past the inkstand as he goes
With such a curl turns up his nose
As thorough-bred gentility shows
Ánd that your mousey 's too well born
Not to hold literature in scorn.

So happy moúsey sports away
The livelong night till dawning day,
And only then of slúmber thinks

When through the window-shutter chinks
Long streaks of light fall on the floor

And milk-pail clink at the hall door

Announces man's return to toil,

Fresh cáre and sorrow, cark and coil,

Ánd that anón into the room

Will burst with sweeping-brush and broom

Dówdy Lisetta, half awake,

Her fússy morning round to take,

Dust táble, sófa, sideboard, chair;

Throw up the sash to let in air,
Pólish the irons, light the fire
Moúsey, it's time you should retire
And leave your hápless neighbour, man,
To enjoy his daylight as he can
While you lie napping snug, till night
Invites you oút to new delight

Ah! moúsey, if you 'd change with me

How happy in your place I'd be!

Walking from BRUCHSAL to HEIDELBERG, and at HEIDELBERG; Octob. 17 and 24, 1854.

To the key of my strong box.

THREE things thou testifiest, careful key:
First that there is on earth something material
Vile therefore and corrupt and perishable
Which yét my fine, imperishable soul
Prízes, esteéms and cáres for; secondly
That I'm the happy owner of such treasure;
And thirdly that I 've found a talisman
Wherewith to guárd it from the covetous eye
And often thiévish, sometimes burglar, hands
Óf the innumerable hordes whose fine,

Ethérial, heáven-sprung, heáven-returning spirits
Pursué with appetite keéner even than mine
And more unscrúpulous, the chase of Earth's

Despised, reviled, repúdiated riches.

Walking from Heidelberg to FraNKENTHAL in the PALATINATE, Octob. 26, 1851.

As my dog and my cát

At the parlour fire sát

One cold night after teá, Says my dog to my cát: "By this and by that

You shall not purr at mé."

Says my cát, looking blué: "Sir, I don't purr at you,

And I mean you no hárm;

'Twere a pity that wé

Should just thén least agreé

When we 're móst snug and warm."

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

She has four sets of cláws,
And sharp teéth in both jáws,
And two eyes glaring fire;
Snarly Snáp, if you 're wise
You'll not coúnt on your size.
But ground árms and retire.

But the dog or the mán
Point me out if you cán

That beforehand is wise

Snarly Snáp makes a boúnce,

On his múzz gets a troúnce

That makes bleéd nose and eyes.

Snarly Snáp turns his tail

And to mé comes with wail

And complaint against Mínn:

“Nay, Snárly Snap, náy;

Those the píper must pay

Who the dancing begin.

"But you 've bóth trespassed só
That out both must go,

For I love to be júst;"

So I called for the broom,
And out of the room

Both belligerents thrúst.

BRUCHSAL in BADEN, Octob. 16, 1854.

« PredošláPokračovať »