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Some gladly pause where stands halfway
The wooden Belvedere,
With sausages and beer;
Where round and round they go,
“ The light fantastic toe."
Tho' all their music be a flute
With crack'd and shrill too-too, 'Tis wonderful what at a pinch
That single flute can do.
From “Brüssel Spitzen" and "Aurore"
To “Fashionablen" gay,
That clever flute can play.
Of waltz or e'en quadrille,
On Leopoldsberg's hill.
The dullest sense t'enthral;
The sweetest sound of all.
For often to that mountain height
There came a lady fair,
Fair ladies used to wear ;
And from her head a veil hung down
Her tresses to confine,
Her golden locks did shine.
Yet—tho' more rich and costly robes
Than hers were seldom seen, And tho' her mise might well bave charmed
A Laure or Victorine
Had art her many aids denied,
Those aids which so assist
Would ever have been miss'd.
In April or in May,
When ev'rything looks gay:
Tho' bright the sunbeams shone;
Who didn't hold them on.
From bush and brake a hidden choir
Of warblers caroll'd clear,
That lady fair drew near.
And by her side her husband came,
A stately peer, I ween:
And she the Margravine.
So anxiously around,
Was never to be found?
First right, then left, then straight ahead
She look'd with eager eye, Then sigh’d, “ Alas! not one will do!".
But didn't mention why. “Methinks, my dear," her spouse began,
“Yon snug secluded dell, Unless I much mistake, would suit
Your pious purpose well. “A sweeter spot you'll seldom find,
Or more salubrious air ; So, if by me you're ruled, you'll build
Your monastery there." • Margrave," said she, “you do mistake,
As, if I must tell you
You generally do.
“Now look, sir, did you ever see
A place so flat and low;
And faintly answer'd “No!" " Then do be still,
tiresome man," The cara sposa cried; “How can you settle any point,
Where I cannot decide ?
“ That spot, forsooth! with better claims
I could name five or six;
My choice I cannot fix."
With sudden fury blew,
Her veil like lightning flew.
Away it went o'er hill and dale,
O'er plain and mountain top,
The Margrave stared, first at the veil,
Then at the Margravine;
Her countenance serene:
O'erclouded it would be; And what that usually meant
None knew so well as he.
But not a symptom she betray'd
Of anger or of woe;
And those were—“Let us go."
With half uncertain air" Whither! to find the veil, and build
The monastery there!
A miracle has done ;
The first foundation stone.".
Should in the Danube lie ?" “Suppose it should,” cried she, “why, then
We'll drain the Danube dry. “Nay, if it float on any lake
Within a hundred miles,
Like Venice, upon piles.”
For three long days in vain ;
To run his course again.
Their utmost skill did use,
In twice five hundred shoes.
That never seem'd to fail,
But couldn't find the veil.
A long and loud hurrah-
And one voice answer'd “Ja!"
The windblown treasure lay ;
It lieth to this day.
They tell this ancient tale,
Was chosen by a veil.
A DRIFT-LOG ON THE MISSISSIPPI,
BY ZEBEDEE HICKORY.
“Now I further saw that betwixt them and the gate was a river, but there was no bridge to go over, and the river was very deep."-BUNYAN.
Ar the mouth of the Mississippi River, and at the point where it disgorges into the sea the contributions of a hundred tributary streams, besides its rapid current that attests its existence to the eye, are some scattered, low banks, scarce elevated ove the level of its rushing and turbid waters.
These banks are formed by an accumulation of drift-wood and alluvial deposit, which is annually extending the great valley of the West.
Those banks recently formed, on which vegetation has scarcely commenced, are black and unsightly in appearance. Should curiosity tempt the traveller to plant his foot on their uninviting shores, they will present to him a hard crust of earth cracked into large fissures by an almost tropical sun, piles of drift-wood, the refuse of ancient forests a thousand miles away, bubbling salt springs and stagnant pools, where the halftorpid alligator basks in primeval mud.
On the evening of a fine day in spring, a few moments after sunset, a large clumsy-looking and dismantled ship approached the place described. She bore evident marks of stress of weather; top-gallant mast, fore-yard, and jib-boom carried away, ropes slack and awry, sides green and rusty, and a general appearance of desolation surrounding her, which would seem to denote that adverse and tempestuous winds had detained her long, and inflicted much damage.
On the top of a high and old-fashioned poop a person stood gazing long and intently on the scene (if scene it could be called) before him. He was alone in his musings, and perhaps by choice; others there were in the cuddy below, whose boisterous revelry proclaimed the licence usually taken on an approach to land. But though no misanthrope, this individual felt more disposed to indulge in solitary musings on reaching the land of his adoption, than to take part in the exhilaration of good fellowship.
Young, hale, and well-clad, he might have been a gentleman travelling for pleasure ; he might have owned the vessel on which he stood; or he might have come with the prospect of carving his fortune in the western world. He was in the latter case—an adventurer; and there he stood.
The arrival of the extension-line high-pressure steam tow-boat Dandy Jim, puffing volumes of steam in fierce roars through a trumpet-shaped funnel, scarcely distracted his attention until a loud voice hailed the captain of the ship :
“Well, bos ! how are you this time?" “How are you, old horse ?"
“ First-rate, old fellow. Bin blowin' pretty considerable where you bin, I expect ?”
“ Well-we had a few sneezers-carried away some lumber.”
Night closed in almost directly, and there was barely light sufficient to display the pilot-station as the ship passed. Amongst the
persons who came on board the ship, on her passage up the river with the aid of the steamer, was a tall, smooth-faced individual, with long hair like a boy, but with everything in his expression to contradict the juvenility which his apparel attempted ; and particularly a remarkably ironical, almost sinister expression about the corners of his small black eye, which might be the result of climate, or might indicate a naturally sarcastic disposition. The person first mentioned, who answered to the name of Godfrey Selborne, had found sufficient interest in the appearance of the river to induce him to resume his station on deck next morning ; and he stood looking out as before, when he was startled by a harsh voice at his elbow, which addressed him in these words :
“Well, stranger, you're from the old country, I reckon ?"
Selborne turned round, and beheld the person we have partially described. Under the impression that this address was an intrusion on his privacy, he replied drily, and with an inquiring glance as if to say, Who the d-l are you? “I am, sir.”
“Well, sir,” responded his new acquaintance, “you breathe the air of freedom now.”
Yes, if the atmosphere of the United States deserves the title exclusively, I suppose we do.”
“You hain't got such a river as this in your country, I expect ?"
“ No," replied Selborne, “I understand there is not its equal in the world.”
This answer apparently gratified the stranger gentleman. He paused, and shifted his plug of tobacco to the other side of his mouth, and resumed.
« This is the father of waters.' An amazing sight of produce comes down here.”
“I do not doubt it,” replied the Englishman. “Indeed, from all I can hear, the city above would be one of the largest commercial cities in the world, but for the sickness in it."
“ 'Tain't sickly."
“No ? then I have been misinformed. I have always learnt that the epidemics carry off great numbers, and cause business to be entirely suspended during the summer.”
“Why, a stranger is bound to go through the acclimating process, any how; but the creoles of the place are hearty ; they never die." “How is that?" said Godfrey.
Why, they dry up and blow away.”. “Oh, that is the way, is it?” said Selborne, with a half smile.
“We are a great people,” continued his new friend; some,
“Well, allowing that, you must admit that we have some enterprise in England."
“ The British,” said he, “ take things mighty easy. It's a long time before they take up an idea, and as long again before they act on it. They creep along slow, like a cockroach with its legs cut off. They don't fire up as we do. They are always making laws in one house to be
we go ahead
I tell you.