Lucile [44]
"Your LUCILE."
PART II.
CANTO I.
I.
Hail, Muse! But each Muse by this time has, I know, Been used up, and Apollo has bent his own bow All too long; so I leave unassaulted the portal Of Olympus, and only invoke here a mortal.
Hail, Murray!--not Lindley,--but Murray and Son. Hail, omniscient, beneficent, great Two-in-One! In Albermarle Street may thy temple long stand! Long enlighten'd and led by thine erudite hand, May each novice in science nomadic unravel Statistical mazes of modernized travel! May each inn-keeper knave long thy judgment revere, And the postboys of Europe regard thee with fear; While they feel, in the silence of baffled extortion, That knowledge is power! Long, long, like that portion Of the national soil which the Greek exile took In his baggage wherever he went, may thy book Cheer each poor British pilgrim, who trusts to thy wit Not to pay through his nose just for following it! May'st thou long, O instructor! preside o'er his way, And teach him alike what to praise and to pay! Thee, pursuing this pathway of song, once again I invoke, lest, unskill'd, I should wander in vain. To my call be propitious, nor, churlish, refuse Thy great accents to lend to the lips of my Muse; For I sing of the Naiads who dwell 'mid the stems Of the green linden-trees by the waters of Ems. Yes! thy spirit descends upon mine, O John Murray! And I start--with thy book--for the Baths in a hurry.
II.
"At Coblentz a bridge of boats crosses the Rhine; And from thence the road, winding by Ehrenbreitstein, Passes over the frontier of Nassua. ("N. B. No custom-house here since the Zollverein." See Murray, paragraph 30.) "The route, at each turn, Here the lover of nature allows to discern, In varying prospect, a rich wooded dale: The vine and acacia-tree mostly prevail In the foliage observable here: and, moreover, The soil is carbonic. The road, under cover Of the grape-clad and mountainous upland that hems Round this beautiful spot, brings the traveller to--"EMS. A Schnellpost from Frankfort arrives every day. At the Kurhaus (the old Ducal mansion) you pay Eight florins for lodgings. A Restaurateur Is attach'd to the place; but most travellers prefer (Including, indeed, many persons of note) To dine at the usual-priced table d'hote. Through the town runs the Lahn, the steep green banks of which Two rows of white picturesque houses enrich; And between the high road and the river is laid Out a sort of a garden, call'd 'THE Promenade.' Female visitors here, who may make up their mind To ascend to the top of these mountains, will find On the banks of the stream, saddled all the day long, Troops of donkeys--sure-footed--proverbially strong;" And the traveller at Ems may remark, as he passes, Here, as elsewhere, the women run after the asses.
III.
'Mid the world's weary denizens bound for these springs In the month when the merle on the maple-bough sings, Pursued to the place from dissimilar paths By a similar sickness, there came to the Baths Four sufferers--each stricken deep through the heart, Or the head, by the self-same invisible dart Of the arrow that flieth unheard in the noon, From the sickness that walketh unseen in the moon, Through this great lazaretto of life, wherein each Infects with his own sores the next within reach. First of these were a young English husband and wife, Grown weary ere half through the journey of life. O Nature, say where, thou gray mother of earth, Is the strength of thy youth? that thy womb brings to birth Only old men to-day! On the winds, as of old, Thy voice in its accent is joyous and bold; Thy forests are green as of yore; and thine oceans Yet move in the might of their ancient emotions: But man--thy last birth and thy best--is no more Life's free lord, that look'd up to the starlight of yore, With the faith on the brow, and the fire in the eyes, The firm foot on the earth, the high heart in the skies; But a gray-headed infant, defrauded of youth,
PART II.
CANTO I.
I.
Hail, Muse! But each Muse by this time has, I know, Been used up, and Apollo has bent his own bow All too long; so I leave unassaulted the portal Of Olympus, and only invoke here a mortal.
Hail, Murray!--not Lindley,--but Murray and Son. Hail, omniscient, beneficent, great Two-in-One! In Albermarle Street may thy temple long stand! Long enlighten'd and led by thine erudite hand, May each novice in science nomadic unravel Statistical mazes of modernized travel! May each inn-keeper knave long thy judgment revere, And the postboys of Europe regard thee with fear; While they feel, in the silence of baffled extortion, That knowledge is power! Long, long, like that portion Of the national soil which the Greek exile took In his baggage wherever he went, may thy book Cheer each poor British pilgrim, who trusts to thy wit Not to pay through his nose just for following it! May'st thou long, O instructor! preside o'er his way, And teach him alike what to praise and to pay! Thee, pursuing this pathway of song, once again I invoke, lest, unskill'd, I should wander in vain. To my call be propitious, nor, churlish, refuse Thy great accents to lend to the lips of my Muse; For I sing of the Naiads who dwell 'mid the stems Of the green linden-trees by the waters of Ems. Yes! thy spirit descends upon mine, O John Murray! And I start--with thy book--for the Baths in a hurry.
II.
"At Coblentz a bridge of boats crosses the Rhine; And from thence the road, winding by Ehrenbreitstein, Passes over the frontier of Nassua. ("N. B. No custom-house here since the Zollverein." See Murray, paragraph 30.) "The route, at each turn, Here the lover of nature allows to discern, In varying prospect, a rich wooded dale: The vine and acacia-tree mostly prevail In the foliage observable here: and, moreover, The soil is carbonic. The road, under cover Of the grape-clad and mountainous upland that hems Round this beautiful spot, brings the traveller to--"EMS. A Schnellpost from Frankfort arrives every day. At the Kurhaus (the old Ducal mansion) you pay Eight florins for lodgings. A Restaurateur Is attach'd to the place; but most travellers prefer (Including, indeed, many persons of note) To dine at the usual-priced table d'hote. Through the town runs the Lahn, the steep green banks of which Two rows of white picturesque houses enrich; And between the high road and the river is laid Out a sort of a garden, call'd 'THE Promenade.' Female visitors here, who may make up their mind To ascend to the top of these mountains, will find On the banks of the stream, saddled all the day long, Troops of donkeys--sure-footed--proverbially strong;" And the traveller at Ems may remark, as he passes, Here, as elsewhere, the women run after the asses.
III.
'Mid the world's weary denizens bound for these springs In the month when the merle on the maple-bough sings, Pursued to the place from dissimilar paths By a similar sickness, there came to the Baths Four sufferers--each stricken deep through the heart, Or the head, by the self-same invisible dart Of the arrow that flieth unheard in the noon, From the sickness that walketh unseen in the moon, Through this great lazaretto of life, wherein each Infects with his own sores the next within reach. First of these were a young English husband and wife, Grown weary ere half through the journey of life. O Nature, say where, thou gray mother of earth, Is the strength of thy youth? that thy womb brings to birth Only old men to-day! On the winds, as of old, Thy voice in its accent is joyous and bold; Thy forests are green as of yore; and thine oceans Yet move in the might of their ancient emotions: But man--thy last birth and thy best--is no more Life's free lord, that look'd up to the starlight of yore, With the faith on the brow, and the fire in the eyes, The firm foot on the earth, the high heart in the skies; But a gray-headed infant, defrauded of youth,