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 £//n'c/z Middeldorf 
 
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C- 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2013 
 
 http://archive.org/details/fannierecollectiOOvanw 
 
bec. FOlsTTAII^EBLEAU. 1864. 
 
Thou art saluted from a foreign land, 
 Fair Cousin ! with a graphic recollection 
 Of wondrous wanderings. Thy taste 
 Will bid thee revel in the marvellous, 
 
2 
 
 And every line shall still excel the last 
 
 In feats and deeds more wondrous. 
 
 So strange and yet so true, each word throughout, 
 
 In this alone the marvel shall be greater ! 
 
 We fain would bring thee, first by slow degrees 
 And soft persuasion, onward in our path ; 
 Would veil the dangers, till the outset past, 
 Thy nerves shall quiver less unto the shock. 
 
3 
 
 We treat of lands and regions where the law 
 And e'en the customs are so vastly strange, 
 A thousand scrapes beset us, but escaped at last 
 We live ! and gain our glory in thy trembling ! 
 A tear, a sigh — but modesty forbids — 
 Prepare thyself to follow to the end. 
 
The curtain rises midst a glare of light, 
 Scene laid in Paris, on a summer night ; 
 There to the left, by tables on the walk, 
 A crowd of pleasure-seekers eat and talk. 
 
G 
 
 Two persons enter, order each an ice, 
 
 The waiter brings it, and they ask the price ; 
 
 "Two francs," — " eh ? Mm!" — the "monsieur" 
 turns to pay, 
 
 But stops and stares at " madame " in dismay; 
 
 The look is caught, she stares at him likewise 
 
 With looks of horror in her laughing eyes. 
 
 " Monsieur " has no money, "madame" has no 
 purse, 
 
 The ice is eaten, makes the matter worse ! 
 They turn their pockets, still 'tis all in vain, 
 And to the hostess " monsieur" must explain. 
 First one, then both, they earnestly protest, 
 The hostess to console them does her best. 
 Midst smiles they rise and "madame" trembles yet ; 
 " Oh ! what it costs your money to forget," 
 
A demi granny ! how profane ! how dear !" 
 And then to think how awkward we appear !" 
 
8 
 
 Thus is experience earned, — the lesson mine, 
 To take my purse whene'er I go to dine, 
 And " madame" who tho' innocent 'tis true — 
 Thou may'st in her's thy own mishap review. 
 Here falls the curtain on the opening act, 
 The second follows, as a well-known fact. 
 
 This lesson learned, which we have tried to tell, 
 We were to new scenes called, and suddenly 
 With awful speed, wide kingdoms did traverse 
 So many leagues, with never-tiring power 
 We scarce had time to feel a parting pang. 
 Fate, and the railway, let us to the Ehine, 
 And onward — eastward, into Germany. 
 But here to tell of all we saw and felt, 
 A flow of inspiration must direct our pen : — 
 

 
 Thou hast in western summer heat 
 With trembling watched the storm, 
 
 Hast heard the thunder's loudest crash, 
 And watched the lightning's form. 
 
10 
 
 'Twas by a power like to these, 
 We dashed from land to land ; 
 I would explain this mystery, 
 If thou could'st understand. 
 
 So sped we onward, till at length 
 There came the Dutch frontier ; 
 
11 
 
 The engine halted on the spot, 
 To take in — what ? — why, beer ! 
 
 You start, of course, and so did we, 
 But water's scarce and dear, 
 And when we'd gone a short way on — 
 They stopped again for beer ! 
 
 They stopped at last so frequently 
 
 We wearied of our train, 
 
 And thought they had all they could drink, 
 
 When lo ! they stopped again ! 
 
12 
 
 The light has fallen, and a future age 
 May marvel at the style and truth portray'd. 
 We waver not, nor is it in our heart 
 To falter from the purpose we have given ; 
 But as the rays that light the earth 
 Are oft-time darkened by a passing cloud 
 So our humour slackens, and we pause to rest, 
 Or wanting inspiration, turn from the sublime — 
 . v . we change our metre : 
 
 Behold at length, with thankfulness devout, 
 (Don't smile too soon, we know what we're about,) 
 The car is left, and worn of brain 
 We seek by music's charms to soothe our pain ; 
 
13 
 
 "With such intent we would a concert hear, 
 Wherein to drink enjoyment thro' our tutor 'd ear, 
 
 To gain our end, we ask a man we meet ; 
 
 He stares in silence while we still repeat ; 
 
 " Mein Gott," he cries, " was soil das denn 
 bedeuten !" 
 
 And such a voice ! enough alone to frighten ! 
 
15 
 
 Sooth 'tis precarious fortune, sketched, or told in 
 verse, 
 
 And hard to say of both, which may be worse ; 
 We see, and laughing slyly, whisper " He will do," 
 And straightway serve him up in our review. 
 
 # * * * 
 
 With patience oozing, tho' by long exposure 
 We bear our buffets with a calm composure 
 We reached at last the Terrace, where a hall 
 Is built to serve for concert, eating-room and all. 
 Here then we entered — what we saw and heard — 
 But stay ! we have for this a special word : 
 
 When the sun was high 
 In the cloudless sky 
 Of July, 
 
16 
 
 All Dresden was gay, 
 "Where the fiddlers play 
 Every day. 
 
 'Twas a German scene, 
 We ne'er had been 
 Within, 
 
 We did fairly choke 
 With tobacco smoke 
 When we spoke. 
 
 But the damsels sit 
 For hours and knit 
 In it, 
 
 So we took a chair 
 To hear an air 
 In there. 
 
17 
 
 Through the mist we saw 
 
 Like smoke in war 
 
 From afar, 
 
 And the atmosphere 
 
 Did dense appear 
 
 As beer. 
 
 We opened our eyes 
 When the mist did rise, 
 With surprise. 
 Smoke stopped the sound, 
 For it couldn't resound 
 We found. 
 
 When they opened the door 
 We heard rather more 
 Than before ; 
 
18 
 
 Oh ! the musical land, 
 Oh ! the muffled band, 
 How grand ! ! 
 
19 
 
 Thou knowest that when we turn to thee 
 
 To tell our mournful tale, 
 
 We dread to draw thy sympathy, 
 
 Such terrors to bewail. 
 
 Full many a tear we shed alone, 
 That needs thy soothing art, 
 But more than we, do silent groan, 
 To bear misfortune's smart. 
 
 In faith, we know not how we dare 
 Enjoy such dangerous ease, 
 But we are bold to please the fair 
 With marvels such as these. 
 
 We know thou may'st in rapture still 
 Our footseps boldly follow ; 
 
2D 
 
 Come then where Carlsbad hides in green 
 Midst valleys nestling low, 
 
21 
 
 The wildest, strangest, funniest scene, 
 Just like a puppet-show. 
 
22 
 
 Here may the weary find repose, 
 The king forget his crown, 
 
23 
 
 And mountains turn the wind that blows, 
 From Carlsbad of renown. 
 
 "We've oft indulged our active mind 
 Half dreaming in the vale, 
 And thought each whisper of the wind, 
 Might tell a wondrous tale. 
 
 Full many an eye would vacant gaze 
 On what we here have told, 
 But to thyself sweet nature's ways 
 Have secrets manifold. 
 
 Such is the hidden valley here, 
 Such its calm seclusion : 
 A word on fashion, tho' I fear 
 'Twill chase the soft illusion. 
 
24 
 
 So far so good, but here we change the verse — 
 It may be better, and it may be worse. 
 Howe'er it prove, we're like the huntsman's horse, 
 Who creeps around— what he can't jump across. 
 
25 
 
 The field is past, our pace was swift indeed ; 
 But here a barrier checks our fancy's speed, 
 We, with our hobby, halt, to test the ground, 
 Since we can't jump, we'll make our way around. 
 We pause before the scene we have to paint, 
 So gay and gaudy, yet so odd and quaint ; 
 Our artist's aid will give thee now and then 
 Most graphic sketches far beyond our pen. 
 
26 
 
 'Twas our desire, first, as a review, 
 To pass the crowd before thee two by two ; 
 But customs, morals, scenes by dozens wait, 
 A host of pleasures still to contemplate. 
 Take thou this seat, half-hidden in the green, 
 
 There close before thee, watch that changing scene. 
 
 I'll tell thee who they are who come this way, 
 
 Old age for health, or youth for fast display — 
 
 Don't laugh, they '11 hear you, there ! he's almost 
 gone, 
 
 He's a live duke, a duke since he was born, 
 
27 
 
 And close beside him, see how humble too, 
 There's no mistaking him — a Eussian Jew ! 
 That charming damsel there, but let her pass, 
 
 Here comes the puppet show en masse : 
 First of all the officers, those white coats there, 
 Are would-be butterflies among the fair, 
 They form a part, but most in their conceit, 
 Of all that charms in Carlsbad's single street ; 
 
28 
 
 See how each one regards with eager eye 
 Too vain to look at those who pass them by : 
 And he's a count — that fat man dressed in red, 
 Why more account than others is not said ; 
 That thin young lady thinks she treats the crowd, 
 'Tis sure she has no title, she's too proud. 
 
29 
 
 None stand aside, none come to look or learn 
 Self-admiration is their sole concern. 
 From early morning till 'tis dark at night 
 "lis ever so, one moving, changing sight. 
 Wait till to-morrow, at the break of day — 
 "We'll see them all like nymphs amidst the spray. 
 
 " 1st Witch. 
 
 Round about the cauldron go ; 
 In the poisoned entrails throw. 
 
30 
 
 2nd Witch. 
 
 Fillet of a fenny snake, 
 In the cauldron boil and bake : 
 Eye of newt, and toe of frog, 
 Wool of bat, and tongue of dog, 
 Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, 
 Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing, 
 Tor a charm of powerful trouble, 
 Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. 
 
 All. 
 
 Double, double toil and trouble ; 
 Fire, burn ; and cauldron, bubble. 
 
 2nd Witch. 
 
 Cool it with a baboon's blood, 
 Then the charm is firm and good." 
 
 Macbeth, iv., 
 
31 
 
 There at the fountain drinking for their health, 
 
 (Of course they don't avow it, 'tis by stealth,) 
 
 They gather numerous, dressed in odds and ends, 
 
 A glorious picture as th' ensemble blends. 
 
 Ere we go farther, 'tis perhaps as well 
 
 The " rules of health " of Carlsbad here to tell, 
 
 " Eise sharp at four, sometimes not quite so late, 
 
 " First to the spring (the last who come must wait;) 
 
 " There drink and walk, and drinking still continue 
 
 " Till sure you've half a pail of water in you; 
 
 " Each morning more, for habit makes it light, 
 
 " Till you've a pail of water in you quite ! 
 
 " Still walk and drink; at ten, one ounce of bread, 
 
 " Those who are tired now may go to bed, 
 
 " Where more is wanted get a paper sack, 
 
 " When filled with bread 'tis like a pedler's pack ; 
 
" Go to the 1 Posl-hofJ order eggs and tea, 
 " (Don't mention butter,) there doze peacefully. 
 " Dine about mid-day, where you have a choice, 
 " Soup Braune, with ein mal 1 Huhn mit Eeis,' 
 "Kartofflen, Erbsen, Rebhuhn, if in season, 
 " And more than this no man can ask in reason. 
 " Take tea at eight, one portion beer and bread, 
 " Then all go home and go at once to bed." 
 Here we have pity for thy tender form, 
 And pause ere more of this may do thee harm ; 
 
33 
 
 We fain would tell of Turkish ladies fair, 
 With deep black eyes, and locks of raven hair 
 
34 
 
 Of scenes and plays, but wondrous as they are, 
 To weary thee, would half our pleasure mar ! 
 
 The day is past we tell of, 
 And the vale is cold and drear, 
 And the crowd that was is scattered 
 To await the coming year. 
 
 Those bowers green are leafless 
 And the flowers all have died, 
 And the trees have naked branches 
 All down the mountain side. 
 
 Where the gay laugh once resounded, 
 Where beauty held her sway ; 
 
35 
 
 All is solemn, all is silent 
 And the charm is fled away. 
 
 Such is fashion, such is beauty 
 Ever thoughtless, ever gay, 
 Fading like the rose in autumn, 
 With the sunshine gone away. 
 
 Now the valley is deserted, 
 Those who met have said adieu ; 
 Friends have come and friends have parted, 
 All is chilling to the view. 
 
 But the smoke is curling lightly, 
 Telling here and there of life : 
 They are left, who labour always, 
 Gaining glory in the strife. 
 
36 
 
 Eead quickly onward, dry thine eye, 
 
 And pass a poet's failings by : 
 
 With all our will we try to do and act, 
 
 Like common mortals, dealing with a fact. 
 
 But as an eagle, mounting in his flight, 
 
 (A bird endowed you know with piercing sight) 
 
 Sees far beneath, with each remove more grand, 
 
 All the wild beauties of his native land, 
 
 So, when our wings are spread, we flutter on, 
 
 (And mount — our fancy lends the wings we mount 
 upon) 
 
 So we expand ; and write as thou hast read ; 
 A poet — like an eagle with his broad wings spread. 
 Again, we've seen an eagle in a valley fly, 
 Seeking but his dinner, with his piercing eye. 
 
37 
 
 So from the clouds, ourselves, we oft descend ; 
 And toiling o'er the earth, our way we wend. 
 
 The streamlet takes its course 
 All along our winding road. 
 In a carriage with one horse, 
 We're a pretty solid load. 
 
38 
 
 From Carlsbad flows the river, 
 And we toil on by its side, 
 "When we think of it we shiver, 
 At the thought of such a ride. 
 
 We are bound to meet the train, 
 But our coachey doesn't care ; 
 He is tipsy or insane 
 "We openly declare ! 
 
39 
 
 "When we stop to get our dinner, 
 We think he'll never start ; 
 Oh ! that coachey is a sinner, 
 But we do at last depart. 
 
 In a carriage with one horse, 
 Bump ! bump ! we jolt all day ; 
 Our feeble steed wants force, 
 From scarcity of hay. 
 
 We arrive, and not too late, 
 By this we mean, in time, 
 We had feared another fate, 
 So our pleasure is sublime. 
 
 When next we travelling go, 
 (May it be our bridal trip) 
 
40 
 
 Through Bohemia we will know 
 To provide ourselves a whip ! 
 
41 
 
 Mighty, powerful German powers, 
 Having kings as others do. 
 
 We halted in Bavaria, 
 Where all the clouds rain beer, 
 And the waters of Bohemia 
 Are never half so clear. 
 
 Our artist sketched a bowl 
 Fresh foaming from the tap, 
 
42 
 
 For this jolly old soul, 
 On awaking from his nap. 
 
 But the summer sun is failing, 
 We are travelling at a jog ; 
 Now we're on the water sailing 
 At midnight in a fog. 
 
 The glorious, glorious, ocean ! 
 "We would a sailor be ! 
 But we feel a strange emotion 
 When we're sailing on the sea. 
 
 We're afloat ! we're afloat ! 
 And the land is out of view ; 
 In a high pressure boat 
 We bid Germany adieu. 
 
43 
 
 On the " Boden Zee" we're tossing 
 In a high pressure boat ; 
 In rain and fog we're crossing, 
 We're afloat ! we're afloat ! 
 
44 
 
 ###### 
 
 "We thank the stars our voyage is o'er, 
 We have in safety reached the shore. 
 To-day we hail thee, quite secure 
 From another wondrous water cure ! 
 A water cure ! we say again, 
 But this time in a spreading plain ; 
 There is a lake, and mountains too, 
 That have a sultry southern hue. 
 And all is green, as green can be, 
 A land as fair as Italy. 
 The lake is blue, its waters deep 
 Are calm with one unbroken sleep, 
 An inland ocean — where the wave 
 Is not an ever-yawning grave. 
 
45 
 
 And on its margins vineyards slope, 
 The peasant's only wealth and hope. 
 Here winter comes and summer goes, 
 But not to deluge all with snows. 
 None dread the cold, none want for cheer, 
 Nor doth he linger half the year. 
 The land hath plenty, few have wealth : 
 And here all come in search of health. 
 Since thou hast followed on so far, 
 Come then and see us as we are. 
 No dangers bid thee step with care : 
 Here is a refuge for the fair. 
 Besides we always seek retreat, 
 We love not all the world we meet. 
 So thou may'st come, and see, and hear, 
 And laugh and joke without a fear. 
 
46 
 
 Our mansion is both small and neat, 
 Beyond the simple village street. 
 It stands in shade where noble trees 
 Sigh sadly in the autumn breeze. 
 
47 
 
 Green fields surround us ; with a barn, 
 And there the men are thrashing corn. 
 We have a " balcon " with a vine, 
 And thickly all its branches twine : 
 A fountain too, where white ducks swim, 
 Or plume themselves upon its brim. 
 So tranquil and so peaceful too, 
 Is nature's charm upon our view, 
 That we might linger in this strain, 
 Nor think to lead thee on again. 
 But we have left thee still in doubt ; 
 (Thy pretty lips already pout) 
 We've told thee of this lovely spot, 
 But where it is thou knowest not ; 
 We've sought to lead thee where a glance 
 Would quickly all thy soul entrance : 
 
48 
 
 To show the laughing sunshine too, 
 That gilds the landscape to the view, 
 To mark the contrast in a clime 
 Where nature 's sunny and sublime. 
 Know then in Savoy, we retire, 
 (In best of health, when friends inquire) 
 The modest town, our pen awakes, 
 Eejoices in the name of Aix. 
 (A wondrous name ! oh ! water cure, 
 "Where every pain is healed sure !) 
 But patience, we have much to tell 
 Of all that to our lot befel : — 
 It is our fate, go where we may, 
 In certain comic lights to play ; 
 Thus for thy pleasure we will trace 
 (We can't resist a pretty face) 
 
49 
 
 The scenes, not only as apart, 
 
 But those in which we played our part. 
 
 "We'd gratify thy every whim, 
 
 And tell thee how the patients swim ; 
 
 And for thy sake, forget our pride, 
 
 And tell thee of our donkey ride ! 
 
 We did forget ourselves, alas ! 
 
 And mount astride a long-eared ass ! 
 
 But here they are before thy view, 
 
 The verses, — and the donkey too ! 
 
50 
 
 We find our artist's happy sketch 
 
 Upon the page before, 
 
 So wondrous like the little wretch, 
 
 "We think we'll give you more. 
 
 Some might remark upon our taste 
 
 In cutting up the creature, 
 
 But then you know the tail is placed 
 
 Behind the head in nature. 
 
51 
 
 When Phoebus' jolly face was seen, 
 Full, round, and fat, and laughing too : 
 'Twas said the jovial god had been 
 His youthful frolics to renew. 
 
 But men have surely want of brains, 
 Who'd set the sun to right ; 
 
52 
 
 He'll roll regardless of their pains, 
 And still of all make light. 
 
 So, be it known, in merry mood, 
 We braved the land of France ; 
 We thought a ride would do us good, 
 And led our friends a dance. 
 
 All heedless of the gaping crowd, 
 
 We hired each a saddle — 
 
 And with a jump, more meek than proud, 
 
 We placed ourselves a-straddle. 
 
 Two long ears, and four small legs 
 Now shuffled on below us ; 
 We felt as if we moved on pegs, 
 And had a string to tow us ! 
 
53 
 
 Now jogged the donkeys in a crowd, 
 A "gamin" close behind them, 
 He hit and pricked, and yelled aloud, 
 To wake up, and remind them. 
 
 Lo ! when we'd mounted half a hill, 
 Our ass began to bray, 
 
54 
 
 We roll'd ! you ne'er saw such a spill. 
 Yes — laugh. — we've said you may ! 
 
 Scarce were we risen to our place, 
 When some unlucky prick 
 Set all the donkeys to a race, 
 And lor ! — how they did kick ! 
 
 One sober-sided, doleful beast, 
 Kicked one entire minute ; 
 Its rider held on till it ceased, 
 His spike was sticking in it ! 
 
 First on its head, then on its tail, 
 With every kick still higher : 
 Allthough we did our friend bewail, 
 We couldn't but admire. 
 
55 
 
 Thus ends our first and last descent 
 To mount a sleepy ass ; 
 We've had enough, and now repent 
 Whene'er we see one pass ! 
 
 * # ■* * 
 
 Eesuming here our former strain, 
 We bid thee follow on again. 
 We have no purpose, and no plan, 
 But seek what charms us where we can. 
 
56 
 
 We move as wild ducks in their flight, 
 
 Which keep their course 
 By day and night ; 
 Nor cease to flap 
 Their wearied wings — 
 Far, far above 
 £ 5jjBEPiL_ — : All earthly things : 
 
 Until beneath them, as they fly, 
 Some sleeping lake doth catch their eye ; 
 Or, like the bee, we sip the sweet 
 From every varied thing we meet. 
 Seeking nooks so bright and sunny, 
 And for the future storing honey. 
 The wild duck swims, at rest a day, 
 Then rises on its flight away. 
 So we speed onward, leaving Aix, 
 And 'tis the change — the pleasure makes. 
 
57 
 
 The scene is shifted, where the " Seine " 
 
 Winds like a corkscrew through the main ; 
 
 Where regal towers mount on high, 
 
 Like ladders leading to the sky ; 
 
 Where kings have lived, and kings have died, 
 
 And stags in endless forests hide. 
 
 Where history has the most to tell, 
 
 And lives the past as by a spell. 
 
 The scene has changed : the trumpet sound 
 
 Proclaims we tread on martial ground, 
 
 And from a stately ivied tower 
 
 Melodious bells chant forth the hour. 
 
 Wild nature blends her charm with art, 
 
 And memory plays the grandest part ; 
 
 Here, on the spot we wake, and seem 
 
 To see things always in a dream ; 
 
58 
 
 And all is veiled in mystery, 
 The shadows of past history. 
 We raise the veil, that thou may'st know 
 This wondrous spot is " Fontainebleau." 
 Come not to judge in daylight cold, 
 Wait till the shadows fall like gold : 
 Then with the bats we'll roam the courts, 
 Where silence aids the rambler's thoughts ; 
 And not a sound shall break the spell, 
 Save the deep-toned tower bell. 
 And thou shalt see, when fancy wakes, 
 What wondrous forms each shadow takes ; 
 The moon will pour its light in streams, 
 And gild thy thoughts, as golden dreams ; 
 But when these moonlight hours pass, 
 All is a stately, heavy mass — 
 
59 
 
 A palace, but the charm 's away, 
 The past is darkened by to-day. 
 
 What have we done ! returned again 
 From comic to sublime, 
 And once more penned a doleful strain ; 
 We'll change a second time ! 
 
 Let's leave the moon, and romance too, 
 To day 's St. Katrine's fair — 
 We'll go to town, what e'er they do, 
 We'll celebrate it there. 
 
60 
 
 Mankind is like a flock of sheep 
 "With shepherd dogs to mind 'em, 
 And when the leaders take a leap, 
 The rest jump on behind 'em. 
 
61 
 
 We would not join — but we would see 
 The pleasures of the throng ; 
 To fete " the fair" we'll think of thee 
 While sauntering along. 
 
 But now we shall not farther roam, 
 We shall not wander more, 
 So we will lead thee to thy home 
 Upon a distant shore. 
 
 There thou may'st shine, the brightest star, 
 
 Nor pause in thy career ; 
 
 But wilt thou turn thy gaze afar 
 
 To find us hiding here ? 
 
 The world may seek us far and wide, 
 (We have no doubt it may,) 
 
 Q 
 
62 
 
 But few shall find us where we hide 
 Until some future clay. 
 
 'Tis always sad to say " good bye," 
 The effort costs us dear ; 
 But what is this, that dims our eye — 
 No !— yes, it is ! — a tear ! ! 
 
It was as if thou journeyed'st by our side, 
 Partaking of our sorrows and our joys ; 
 
64 
 
 We thought to hear thy voice, thy merry laugh, 
 And we were proud to make thy path secure, 
 Where nature smiled, and all was beautiful, 
 Our fancy saw its image on thy face ; 
 In fact our path throughout we traced 
 The shadows of our own j ust ended tour. 
 Alas ! a dream's a dream, but wherefore mourn, 
 E'en tho' our brains have played a heartless trick ; 
 Perchance 'tis best to know thee where thou art, 
 Nor tempt thee mid the dangers of the world — 
 To give thy fancy only, — liberty, 
 And guard thee as a songster in its cage. 
 
 Since then we wake to feel the loss we bear, 
 We'll do our best to bring thee here in thought ; 
 
65 
 
 See then this modest cottage, here we dwell, 
 And thro' that window have our visions come. 
 
 Here we have laboured, here we labour still, 
 And here we've passed our lifetime in review — 
 The world around us, still we shun the crowd, 
 And watch and learn retired in their midst, 
 
66 
 
 Like wisdom's bird we roll our eyes around 
 Disdaining the fast swallows of mankind ; 
 In truth, we move not with the present age, 
 But jog on fast or slow as suits our will ! 
 We love our freedom, as the eagle loves it, 
 And thro' the future soars our fancy, onward ; 
 Eeclining on our elbows, we may oft be seen, 
 Contriving ladders leading up to fame ; 
 But pass this by, we fain would spread our wings, 
 Far in the future — but the hour is come, 
 And we must fold them, and regret thee here. 
 Ere long, the laugh shall ring where we are not, 
 And round thy hearth, bright happy faces reign, 
 And " merry Christmas !" wake the dying year, 
 Where luxury makes winter joyful as the spring. 
 
Then think of us, and place a vacant chair, 
 And to the absent, drink a heart-felt toast, 
 And we will hear it, feel it, and be there, 
 To take our part amid the festive host. 
 
 Ever thine, 
 I. V. W., J* 
 
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