Chain'd by a silk-thread at her feet.
THE ARCHANGELS' SONG.
Speaking with much circumspection, the druggist made answer as follows"What you say, good neighbour, is certainly true, and my plan isAlways to think of improvement, provided tho' new, 'tis not costly.But what avails it in truth, unless one has plenty of money,Active and fussy to he, improving both inside and outside?Sadly confined are the means of a burgher; e'en when he knows it,Little that's good he is able to do, his purse is too narrow,And the sum wanted too great; and so he is always prevented.I have had plenty of schemes! but then I was terribly frighten'dAt the expense, especially during a time of such danger.Long had my house smiled upon me, decked out in modish exterior,Long had my windows with large panes of glass resplendently glitterd.Who can compete with a merchant, however, who, rolling in riches,Also knows the manner in which what is best can be purchased?Only look at the house up yonder, the new one: how handsomeLooks the stucco of those white scrolls on the green-colour'd panels!Large are the plates of the windows--how shining and brilliant the panes are,Quite eclipsing the rest of the houses that stand in the market!Yet at the time of the fire, our two were by far the most handsome,Mine at the sign of the Angel, and yours at the old Golden Lion.Then my garden was famous throughout the whole country, and strangersUsed to stop as they pass'd and peep through my red-colourd palingsAt my beggars of stone, and at my dwarfs, which were painted,He to whom I gave coffee inside my beautiful grotto,Which, alas! is now cover'd with dust and tumbling to pieces,Used to rejoice in the colour'd glimmering light of the mussels,Ranged in natural order around it, and connoisseurs evenUsed with dazzled eyes to gaze at the spars and the coral.Then, in the drawing-room, people look'd with delight on the painting,Where the prim ladies and gentlemen walked in the garden demurely,And with pointed fingers presented the flowers, and held them.Ah, if only such things were now to be seen! Little care INow to go out; for everything needs to be alter'd and tasteful,As it is call'd; and white are the benches of wood and the palings;All things are simple and plain; and neither carving not gildingNow are employ'd, and foreign timber is now all the fashion.I should be only too pleased to possess some novelty also,So as to march with the times, and my household furniture alter.But we all are afraid to make the least alteration,For who is able to pay the present charges of workmen?Lately a fancy possess'd me, the angel Michael, whose figureHangs up over my shop, to treat to a new coat of gilding,And the terrible Dragon, who round his feet is entwining;But I have left him all brown; as he is; for the cost quite alarm'd me."-----IV. EUTERPE.
And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?
When a Pantheon it seems round him for ever to bring.Jupiter knits his godlike brow,--her's, Juno up-lifteth;
Droop o'er the plain.The crocus opens
* * * *
To complete thy strange and merry story!
E'er cross'd the dear child's thoughts.I see 'tis but the ev'ning breeze
No! in truth there's here no lack:White the bread, the maidens black!To another town, next night:Black the bread, the maidens white!
A nothing, a mere chance, oft gives him life again.