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And mé scarce less anxiety
Lest áll should not well managed be.”
Incomparably honest friend,
Pray ón; my lécture 's at an end;
There 's not a word you 've said but 's true;
I 'll kneel beside you and pray too."
FLEURUS, HAINAULT (BELGIUM), Nov. 10, 1854.
Jack and Jóck once mét each other
Ón a road that east and wést lay,
Posting both as fast as áble,
Westward Jáck, and Jock due eastward:
“Whíther, Jáck, in súch a húrry ?”
Said Jock, stópping short and greeting.
“Straight to heaven,” repliéd Jack hásty,
“Túrn aboút, Jock, and come with me.”
.Whát! to heaven?” said Jock astonished;
“Jáck, you can't to heáven get that way;
Heáven lies eastward every child knows
Come with me, I 'm bound straight fór it."
“Báh!” said Jáck, “you 're súrely jóking;
Whý, it 's straight to hell you 're going.
if you 're wise you 'll turn with mé, Jock;
Reád the signpost: Heáven *** MÍLES EAST.”
“Whát care Í, Jack, fór your signpost?
All my friends have still gone this way;
Fáther, mother, bóth grandfathers,
All my úncles, aúnts and coúsins.'
“Fór your friends I care as little,
Jóck, as you care for my signpost,
Bút to end our difference lét us
Leáve it to the tóll - bar keeper.”
To the tóll - bar Jack and Jóck go,
Dóff their bónnets, put the question:
“Gentlemén,” repliés the tóll - man,
“Please both of you páy the tóll first.”
Paid the tóll, says the toll - keeper
With a shrewd shrug of his shoulders :
“Gentlemén, you 're free to take now
Esther road to heaven or neither."
Só the two friends followed ón straight
Each the way he had been going,
And I doúbt much either 's nearer
Heáven today than when he started.
Walking from BASECLES to TOURNAY (Belgium), Nov. 14, 1854.
THE BEGGAR AND THE BISHOP.
“My lord bishop," said the beggar,
« Thoú and I in Christ are brethren,
Let us therefore live as brothers;
Í 'll begin, do thoú as I do.
“Hére 's one hálf my crust and bacon,
Hére 's one of my twó sixpences;
Nów give me one hálf the income
óf thy seé and présentations.”
“Yes, beyond doubt we are bréthren,”
Said the bishop with a gráve smile,
“And have both received our portions
From the same impártial Párent.
“Tó divide again were impious
Discontentedness on our parts;
Keep thou thine as I will mine keep,
And let both praise the great giver.
“Bút as Í am boúnd in fairness
Tó acknowledge í ’ve the lion's share,
Take this charitáble shilling
And my blessing, and no more say."
Walking from CANTERBURY to SITTINGBOURNE (KENT), Nov. 23, 1854.
TONGUELESS thou 'st yét a triple voice, gray lock;
For, first, thou speakest of a time when soft,
Brown, glóssy, curly hair my temples shaded;
When súpple and elastic were my joints,
My strong heart full of joy and hope and courage,
My infant reason breathless in pursuit
Of fugitive, light-foot, ignis - fatuus Knowledge;
A time when in my curling locks my mother
Her fingers used to wreatho and smiling say:
“Heaven bléss my boy and make him a good man.”
And next thou speakest of a time, gray lock,
When prématurely with my yet brown hair
White hairs began to mingle, and my mother
With ténder hand would pluck them and say sighing:
“Thése might have wéll a little longer waited,
And spáred the sorrow to a mother's eyes."
And I would smile, and press her hand and say:
“Bé of good heart; we 've many a year before us,
Mother and son, to live, and love each other,
My vigorous manhood sheltering and protecting
Hér in whose shélter safe I grew to manhood.”
And last, thou speakest of a time, gray lock
A tíme, alás! no longer in perspective,
Distant and dim and dreaded, but here present
When the kind fingers, that in my brown curls
Once wreathed themselves or plucked the odd white hair,
Lie moúldering in the sepulchre, and I,
Three fourths my journey made to the same goal,
Play with my fingers in my daughter's curls
And sigh and say: “Already a white hair!”
Such triple voice hast thou, truthful gray lock.
FONTAINE L’EVEQUE, HAINAULT (BELGIUM); Nov. 12, 1854.
FOR THE TOMBSTONE OF MARAT.
Slain by an ángel in the guise of woman
Here lies that fiend incarnate, Jean Marat;
The enemy of mankind, THE PEOPLE'S FRIEND. *
Alás, magnanimous Corday, that the world
Must búy its ríddance from the incubus
Át the too high price of thy virgin blood!
LILLE, DEP. DU NORD (FRANCE); Nov. 17, 1854.
LÉT men boást their Brútus,
Scévolá and Cócles,
Wómen háve their greater,
Nóbler, púrer Córday.