Here where the Rose is in bloom, the Vine and the Laurel entwining-- Here where the Turtle invites--here where the Grasshopper springs, Whose is this grave in the midst, which the Gods with life and with beauty Thus have circled and decked?--This is Anacreon's Tomb. Spring, and Summer, and Autumn, the joyous spirit had tasted, And from the Winter he hides under this hillock of green. THE WARNING. Wecke den Amor nicht auf! Noch schaeft der liebliche Knabe Geh! vollbring dein Geshaeft, wie es der Tag dir gebeut! So der Zeit bedienet sich klug die sorgliche Mutter, Wenn ihr Knaebchen entschlaeft, denn es erwacht nur zu bald. Waken not Love from his sleep! The boy lies buried in slumber; Go, and, while leisure is left, finish the task of to-day; Even as a diligent mother, who, seizing the hour as it passes, Works while her child is asleep--knowing he'll waken too soon. THE SWISS ALP. War doch gestern dein haupt noch so braun wie die Locke der Lieben, Deren holdes Gebild still aus der Ferne mir winkt; Silbergrau bezeichzet dir fruh der Schnee nun die Gipfel, Der sich im sturmender nacht, dir um den Scheitel ergoss. Jugend, ach, ist dem Alter so nah, durch's Leben verbunden Wie ein beweglicher Traum Gestern und Heute verband. Yesterday's eve were thy peaks still dark as the locks of my loved one, When from a distance she looks fair and serene upon me; But, with a mantle of snow, at morn those summits were silver'd, Which the chill fingers of night sudden had spread on thy brow. Ah! how swiftly in life may youth and old age be united-- Even as the flight of a dream yesterday link'd with to-day. NORTH AND SOUTH. Glanzen sah ich das Meer, und blinken die liebliche Welle Frisch mit gunstigem Wind zogen die Segel dahin. Keine sehnsucht fuehlte mein Herz; es wendete rueckwaerts Nach dem Schnee des Gebirgs, bald sich der schmachtende Blick. Suedwaerts liegen der Schaetze wie viel! Doch einer im Norden Zieht, ein grosser Magnet, unwiderstehlich zurueck. Glitter'd the ocean around, in light the billows were breaking, Freshly, with favouring winds, glided our sails o'er the sea. Yet for the land of beauty I felt no longing; in sadness Backward my glances still turn'd towards the region of snow. Southward how many a treasure invites! but _one_, like the Magnet, Stronger than all, to the North draws me resistlessly back. CHRISTMAS CAROL, 1845. TUNE.--"_Packington's Pound._" I.