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“Come! the two delusive things
Stamp impatiently it seems,
Yours has heavenward soaring wings,
Mine is of the land of dreams.

“What’s our baggage? only vows,
Happiness, and all our care,
And the flower that sweetly shows
Nestling lightly in your hair.

“Come, the oaks all dark appear,
Twilight now will soon depart,
Railing sparrows laugh to hear
Chains thou puttest round my heart.

“Not my fault ’twill surely be
If the hills should vocal prove,
And the trees when us they see,
All should murmur–let us love!

“Oh, be gentle!–I am dazed,
See the dew is on the grass,
Wakened butterflies amazed
Follow thee as on we pass.

“Envious night-birds open wide
Their round eyes to gaze awhile,
Nymphs that lean their urns beside
From their grottoes softly smile,

“And exclaim, by fancy stirred,
‘Hero and Leander they;
We in listening for a word
Let our water fall away.’

“Let us journey Austrian way,
With the daybreak on our brow;
I be great, and you I say
Rich, because we love shall know.

“Let us over countries rove,
On our charming steeds content,
In the azure light of love,
And its sweet bewilderment.

“For the charges at our inn,
You with maiden smiles shall pay;
I the landlord’s heart will win
In a scholar’s pleasant way.

“You, great lady–and I, Count–
Come, my heart has opened quite,
We this tale will still recount,
To the stars that shine at night.”

The melody went on some moments more
Among the trees the calm moon glistened o’er,
Then trembled and was hushed; the voice’s thrill
Stopped like alighting birds, and all was still.

XII.

GREAT JOSS AND LITTLE ZENO.

Quite suddenly there showed across the door,
Three heads which all a festive aspect wore.
Two men were there; and, dressed in cloth of gold,
A woman. Of the men one might have told
Some thirty years, the other younger seemed,
Was tall and fair, and from his shoulder gleamed
A gay guitar with ivy leaves enlaced.
The other man was dark, but pallid-faced
And small. At the first glance they seemed to be
But made of perfume and frivolity.
Handsome they were, but through their comely mien
A grinning demon might be clearly seen.
April has flowers where lurk the slugs between.

“Big Joss and little Zeno, pray come here;
Look now–how dreadful! can I help but fear!”
Madame Mahaud was speaker. Moonlight there
Caressingly enhanced her beauty rare,
Making it shine and tremble, as if she
So soft and gentle were of things that be
Of air created, and are brought and ta’en
By heavenly flashes. Now, she spoke again
“Certes, ’tis heavy purchase of a throne,
To pass the night here utterly alone.
Had you not slyly come to guard me now,
I should have died of fright outright I know.”
The moonbeams through the open door did fall,
And shine upon the figure next the wall.

Said Zeno, “If I played the Marquis part,
I’d send this rubbish to the auction mart;
Out of the heap should come the finest wine,
Pleasure and gala-fetes, were it all mine.”
And then with scornful hand he touched the thing,
And made the metal like a soul’s cry ring.
He laughed–the gauntlet trembled at his stroke.
“Let rest my ancestors”–’twas Mahaud spoke;
Then murmuring added she, “For you are much
Too small their noble armor here to touch.”

And Zeno paled, but Joss with laugh exclaimed,
“Why, all these good black men so grandly named
Are only nests for mice. By Jove, although
They lifelike look and terrible, we know
What is within; just listen, and you’ll hear
The vermins’ gnawing teeth, yet ‘twould appear
These figures once were proudly named Otho,
And Ottocar, and Bela, and Plato.
Alas! the end’s not pleasant–puts one out;
To have been kings and dukes–made mighty rout–
Colossal heroes filling tombs with slain,
And, Madame, this to only now remain;
A peaceful nibbling rat to calmly pierce
A prince’s noble armor proud and fierce.”