Part 523 (1/2)

Ay, the deuce, then look outside!

Listen to my prayer!

Praying, singing, I have tried, Wouldst thou have me swear?

I shall be a steaming ma.s.s, Freeze to rock and stone, alas!

If I don't remove.

All this, love, I owe to thee, Winter-b.u.mps thou'lt make for me, Thou confounded love!

Cold and gloom spread far and wide!

Ay, the deuce! then look outside!

Thousand thunders! what's this now From the window shoots?

Oh, thou witch! 'Tis dirt, I vow, That my head salutes!

Rain, frost, hunger, tempests wild, Bear I for the devil's child, Now I'm vexed full sore.

Worse and worse 'tis! I'll begone.

Pray be quick, thou Evil One!

I'll remain no more.

Pretty tumult there's outside!

Fare thee well--I'll homeward stride.

THE WINTER NIGHT.

Farewell! the beauteous sun is sinking fast, The moon lifts up her head; Farewell! mute night o'er earth's wide round at last Her darksome raven-wing has spread.

Across the wintry plain no echoes float, Save, from the rock's deep womb, The murmuring streamlet, and the screech-owl's note, Arising from the forest's gloom.

The fish repose within the watery deeps, The snail draws in his head; The dog beneath the table calmly sleeps, My wife is slumbering in her bed.

A hearty welcome to ye, brethren mine!

Friends of my life's young spring!

Perchance around a flask of Rhenish wine Ye're gathered now, in joyous ring.

The br.i.m.m.i.n.g goblet's bright and purple beams Mirror the world with joy, And pleasure from the golden grape-juice gleams-- Pleasure untainted by alloy.

Concealed behind departed years, your eyes Find roses now alone; And, as the summer tempest quickly flies, Your heavy sorrows, too, are flown.

From childish sports, to e'en the doctor's hood, The book of life ye thumb, And reckon o'er, in light and joyous mood, Your toils in the gymnasium;

Ye count the oaths that Terence--may he ne'er, Though buried, calmly slumber!-- Caused you, despite Minelli's notes, to swear,-- Count your wry faces without number.

How, when the dread examinations came, The boy with terror shook!

How, when the rector had p.r.o.nounced his name, The sweat streamed down upon his book!