"I can't imagine, lovely SHE, Why we might not united be, Right well, I doubt not, we 'd agree: Come, fairest, loveliest SHE, let 's wed, Three never were good company; What think'st thou, my own darling SHE?" "I'm quite of your mind," SHE replied, "And will stay ever by your side Through good and bad, through death and life, So said so done; the two are wed; Well risen the sun, tapped at their door: "We cóme, we come immediately;" Upstarting quick thus answered SHE; But HÉ: "I'll not a foot go," cried And túrned him on the other side. "You will, my dear." "My dear, I wont." "You will indeed." "What if I don't?” "And will you, cán you, say me nay Ere yét well fled my bridal day?" "No, dear, I wont." "Don't talk so loud; that Ir has ears." "I don't care if the whole world hears." "Not ready yet?" "No!" with a shout "Good bye! good bye! we 'll follow straight." Happy and with itself content, And where it liked best the day spent. And answer "Come, Love" with "I wont," Strove Ír its comrades to descry: "Though not in sight they 'll come anon" Yés, Ir; but wait not them upon; The first point settled, their debate Túrns on the next; good Ir, don't wait; Enjoy the precious liberty Alreády mourned by HE and SHE. Walking from SILIAN in the PUSTERTHAL to LANDRO in the valley of AMPEZZO, July 22, 1854. DEMOCRITUS. "GOODHEARTED, kind and generous, to a fault, In all his dealings scrupulously just, He wére the model of a perfect man Hád he his sénses; but this constant laughing, Nothing but laughing, morning noon and night Is évidence, alas! but too convincing, Our goód Democritus is gone stark mad. Perhaps the wise physician knows some herb Cóme to Abdéra and his finger laid Tired thus he said to the amazed physician: Unless you'd have me die downright with laughing." "Hów or at what?" "Why at the learned Doctor Who, sént to cure me, makes me ten times worse. Before you came I used to amuse myself With laughing at the silly people here Who thought me mad because a little wiser, And now my laughing 's doubled at the sage Or stay and cure the people of Abdéra, And that one sáne man was Democritus. The story 's nó less true told of the poet Who with his pen in hand keeps laughing, laughing, Near MONTEBELLO, while walking from VICENZA to VERONA, Aug. 15-16, 1854. I can put up with people of all sorts, if only they have money, I can find beauty in all kinds of eyes, if only they are funny, I can live anywhere in town or country where it's only sunny, I can eat fish of any kind, fresh, salt or pickled, except tunny, But curse me, if I can without a massy crystal spoon eat honey. KÜSSNACHT, on the VIERWALDSTÄTTER SEE, Sept. 20, 1854. LUCK. Ir happy you would be tomorrow And Lúck of all things loves place-changing: Sórry today, tomorrow glad; Take úp, put down; now none, now all; And have his Oberon and his Puck, Thát for his good, this for his ill luck. TAUERNHAUS, FEHRLEITEN, at the foot of the GROSS-GLOCKNER, July 16, 1854. GOOD AND BAD. THE first draught of cold water when you 're thirsty Is nót delicious only but divine, Bálsam and nectar or whatever more The grateful heart can say or think of praise; |