If less agreeable the bower,

Come, let 's ascend the ruined tower
That on the hill commands the shore
And far off hears the breakers roar.
There, armed with Galilean eye,
Évery spar, sail, rope we 'll descry
In every táll ship passing by,
Nót that for tower, sea, ship I care,
Bút to be with you anywhere.

If you will not the tower ascend,
Into the wood our steps let 's bend
And márk with what agility

The brown squirrel bounds from tree to tree,
Or hear the oft repeated stroke

That félls at last old monarch oak,

Or gáther mushrooms or see glide

The clear stream by the gray rock's side,
Nót that for stream, rock, wood I care,
Bút to be with you anywhere.

You'll none of all; well, Mary, no;
Out of this spot we 'll never go.
Smile but on me those eyes so blue,
Beát but for me that heart so true,
Hére is my world, and other none
I récognise beneath the sun;

Beside you here I'll live and die,

Beside you 's my eternity.

TAUERNHAUS, FEHRLEITEN, at the foot of the GROSS-GLOCKNER, July 17, 1854; and while walking from LIENZ to SILIAN in the PUSTERTHAL, July 21, 1854.

THE WEDDING RING.

LET the pure unalloyed gold of this ring
Declare the perfect love with which I love thee;
Lét the firm, cómpact, indestructible metal
Witness my love 's no evanescent passion;
Ánd the strong, massy hoop, encircling thus
Thy slender finger, typify the pale

Within which thou shalt pass thy days secure, From áll harm guarded by these sheltering arms. Walking from PFUNDS to RIED (German TYROL), Sept. 4, 1854.

I would not, if I could, be wise,
I énvy nót the regal state,

Wealth has small splendor in mine eyes,
I am contented with my fate;

I live and breathe and see the sun,
And feel the fresh air round me blow,
For mé the earth is spread with flowers,
For mé the gurgling waters flow;

And if I'm loved by one alone,
Loved by one only let me be,
For that one heart is all my own

Ye kings, wise, rích men, envy me.

LANDRO in the valley of AMPEZZO, July 22, 1854.

CUCKOO!

'Twas ón a balmy day
In the latter end of May
I heard the cúckoo say,

Cuckoo! Cáckoo!

Évery day in June,
Morning, evening, noon,
She repeated the same tune,
Cúckoo! Cuckoo!

But when búrning hot July
Fláred in the summer sky,

Ah! the cuckoo bade good bye,
Cúckoo! Cuckoo!

Quick cóme again, sweet May,
Till ón a balmy day

Again I hear her say,

Cúckoo! Cúckoo !

While travelling in Stellwagen from SAUERLOCH to HOLZKIRCHEN (Bavaria), July 8, 1854.

JULIA ALPINULA.

"My father, spare my father," Julia cried

And at th' inexorable Roman's feet

Thréw herself, tearless:

"Spare, Oh spare, my father;

Mércy is dearer far to heaven than justice;
Mércy is fair and lovely and makes friends
And binds with the indissoluble bond

Of grátitude; Oh spare my father, Roman;
Róme is no petty state compelled to uphold
By térror its precarious sovereignty;

Róme can afford to have mércy on a rebel.
Man, Roman, father, spare a man, a father,
Spáre an Helvetian guilty and repentant;
Só at Aventia's altar shall my prayers,

The priestess' and the daughter's prayers, be daily
Óffered for greát Rome and for thee - Oh spare him,
Magnánimous Roman, spare him, spare him, spare him.".
In vain she supplicated and in vain

Clúng to the Consul's knees; unpitying justice
Lópped with remorseless axe the victim's head;

And never in Aventia's temple after

Officiated Julia, but away

Pined grádual and at last died brokenhearted.
Áfter a thousand and six hundred years

A stóne found at Aventicum affirms
The truth of the Historian: "Here I lie,
Júlia Alpínula, Aventia's priestess,

Ill-fated daughter of ill-fated sire:

The síre a rebel died by the hand of justice,
The daughter's supplication failed to save

*JULIA ALPINULA: HIC JACEO. INFELICIS PATRIS INFELIX PROLES. DEAE AVENTIAE SACERDOS. EXORARE PATRIS NECEM NON POTUI: MALE MORI IN FATIS ILLI ERAT. VIXI ANNOS XXIII.

MÁN, egoistic, for his own self lives,

Thinking he lives for honor, virtue, fame,
Ór for his country, as he 's pleased to call
The land which chanced to give the egoist birth;
Wóman, devoted woman, knows no self,

Lives only in and for the egoist

Who in the name of love has made her slave.

Walking from LIENZ to SILIAN in the PUSTERTHAL, July 21, 1854.

A mán and woman travelling by the way
And thirsty both, found each a cup of liquor;
The mán, as he drank hís, made, a wry face
And spát some oút and said it was most bitter.
The woman, as she drank hers, kept her eyes
Fixed on the man, then meekly smiling said:
"Bitter was my cup too, and I doubt not
Bitterer than thine, but pleasant to me always
Éven the most bitter draught if I have only

Thy face before mine eyes while I am drinking.

Walking from LIENZ to SILIAN in the PUSTERTHAL, July 21, 1854.