Which e'en when favours fail, can sooth, can calm,
The sons of sorrow-the devoid of hope ;-
Pray, let me forthwith, without type or trope,
All ye who travel, call your minds to this-

In foreign realms, you'll find abundant scope,
For kindness, may you thereby never miss
The surest path to earthly happiness!

LIV.

But do not deem me harsh towards our youth-
It were unjust to rate without good reason;

I only would correct, by honest truth,

Those foibles, which to pass were downright treason;

Besides, to praise rank folly were derision :

Yet have I seen some thousands from these isles,

Who rove to Rome or Paris in the season,

Who know to blend mild manners with sweet smiles-

With such the heavy hours one best beguiles.

A little gentle correction.

LV.

I, too, have travell'd many a distant land,

Have bath'd me, when a boy, in this good Rhine;

Youthful travels.

Have toil'd and panted on an Indian strand,

Sought Throstles' nests amongst the Appenine:
Nay, I have had experience, in fine,

Of what I now most seriously impugn,

All random talk 'midst strangers.-Do decline,

You'd better ope your eyes, and spare your tongue.

LVI.

The anchor up, and sped the heavy haze,

See in full force the gorgeous orb of day!
With beauty bright'ning all yon banks and braes:
Who'd not rejoice at such a sight, betrays

A worse than want of taste--why don't they stay,
And count the red bricks of their dainty home?
Cologne. At length Cologne !-Oh! could I but pourtray,
With critic skill, the grandeur of yon Dome,

Great Engelbert', thy glory-not the tomb.

1 It was Archbishop Engelbert (Comte de Berg), a most powerful and distinguished prelate, who first planned the Dome at Cologne, and which was afterwards commenced by Conrad. He began it in 1248, and it was carried on under different governments till 1429. It has never been finished, but is even now, in its uncomplete state, one of the noblest Gothic buildings in the world.

LVII.

But painting, like the sweeter sister art,
Is nature's gift, and not to be acquir'd;
That captivates the eye-and this the heart,
So both alike are courted and admir'd;

Have wak'd to fame, and generous bosoms fir'd.

Yet are there nobler charms, of higher cast,

To which the wisest mortals have aspir'd,

"Tis those alone can flourish to the last,

When grey hairs come, and many a sorrow's past.

LVIII.

Painting and
Music.

Let lovely Beatrice, then, not despair,

Although she may dance somewhat out of time,

Or that her clouds are ta'en for trees in air,

Her voice, though not quite discord, wanting chime,

She has in lieu, those virtues, held the prime,—

A mind as pure as the untrodden snow;

A taste for all that's graceful and sublime :

Her soul, if not her harp, has music's flow!

Intellectual excellence.

LIX.

A Roman ruin.

A scourge.

Time has roll'd on in vain,So has the Rhine,

O'er the dark pile still lingering 'neath its wave;
The ruin of that bridge1, which Constantine

Had rear'd, but which fierce Otto would not save.
Thus 'tis oft doom'd, some hero, more the slave
Of pride and vengeance, desolates the earth,

And throws man back for ages!-Would the knave
Could listen from the mouldering in his grave,

And hear how millions execrate his glave!

LX.

Oh! had I but one ember of that fire

Which warm'd our Byron !-how I'd laud the man,

Who (Europe shackled, ready to expire),

Was never seen, but in the blazing van ;

1" Otton jugea à propos de rompre le pont que Constantine avoit fait jeter sur le Rhin à Cologne."-Nouveau Merian, p. 290. This was, in all probability, Otho II. Emperor of Germany, and surnamed the Sanguinary; he was the son of Otho the Great, and succeeded his father in A. D. 1093, The bridge, or rather its debris, are still seen when the river is low.

But who, when fled the foe, and nations 'gan
To breathe in safety, and forget their wounds,

Spoke peace and concord—he 'tis safely can,
Be slow1 t' unsheath the sword, whose fame abounds,
Still foremost in the field, when battle sounds.

LXI.

How beautiful thy bridge! renown'd Cologne ;

Renown'd, perhaps, not in thy fallen state,

But in those virtues, richer than thy coin,

Which stampt thee great in days of ancient date:

When Clovis was proclaim'd thy King, and Pepin3 sate, Amidst his Franks, within thy mighty wall1!

The holy city later call'd, and soon thy fate,

1 It is well known to all those who had access to such information, that one of the great objects of the Duke of Wellington, during his administration, was to preserve his country in peace.

2 Clovis, the father of the first race of French kings, termed the Merovingian, was proclaimed King of the Franks at Cologne in 508.

3 Pepin, son of Charles Martel, was raised to the throne of the Franks in 752; previous to that distinction, he was Duke of Cologne.

4 By Shreiber's account, Cologne had a wall around it even in the time of the Ubians; and on that part of the present wall, towards the Rhine, may be seen till this day figures representing Franks.

5" On appelait Cologne La Sainte' ville."--Nouveau Merian, p. 290.

Wellington.

Ancient renown.