THE FOLLOWING LINES IN FRENCH,

Are inscribed upon the Pedestal of a Statue of Cupid,

IN A GARDEN AT UTRECHT.

ORIGINAL.

      N’offrant qu’un coeur a la Beaute,
      Nud comme la Verite,
      Sans armes comme l’Innocence,
      Sans ailes comme la Constance,
      Tel fut l’Amour dans le siecle d’or,
On ne le trouve plus, quoiqu’on le cherche encore.

TRANSLATION.

To Beauty give your heart, your sighs,
No other off’ring will she prize;
As Truth should unadorn’d appear,
Behold! the god is naked here! 
Like Innocence, he has no arms
But those of sweet, of native, charms;
No wish or pow’r has he to fly,
Like thy pure spirit, Constancy! 
Such in the golden age was Love;
But now, oh! whither does he rove?

THE RHINGAU SONG.

This is the favourite Song with the Inhabitants of the vine-covered Region of the Rhingau, an extensive District along the Banks of the Rhine, where the finest Wines are produced.

ORIGINAL.

Bekrantzt mit laub den liebe vollen becher,
  Und trinkt ihn froelich leer;
In Gauz Europa ihr herren zecher,
  Ist solch, ein wein micht mehr.

Ihn bringt das vaterland aus seiner fulle,
  Wie waer er sonst so gut? 
Wie waer er sonst so edel, stille,
  Und doch voll kraft und muth?

Am Rhein, am Rhein, da wachsen unsre reben: 
  Gesegnet sey der Rhein! 
Da wachsen sie am ufer hin, und geben
  Uns diesen labe wein.

So trinkt ihn dann, und lasst uns alle wege
  Uns freun, und froelich seyn;
Und wuesten wir, wo jemand traurig laege,
  Wir gaben ihm den wein.

TRANSLATION.

With wine-leaves crown the jovial cup,
  For, search all Europe round,
You’ll say, as pleas’d you drink it up,
  Such wine was never found. 
                            Such wine, &c.

Our fathers’ land this vine supplies;
  What soil can e’er produce
But this, tho’ warm’d with genial skies,
  Such mild, such gen’rous juice? 
                               Such mild, &c.

Then shall the Rhine our smiles receive,
  For on its banks alone
Can e’er be found a wine to give
  The soul its proper tone. 
                               The soul, &c.

Come, put the jovial cup around,
  Our joys it will enhance,
If any one is mournful found,
  One sip shall make him dance. 
                               One sip, &c.

LINES TO HEALTH,

Upon the Recovery of a Friend from a dangerous Illness.

Sweet guardian of the rosy cheek! 
  Whene’er to thee I raise my hands
Upon the mountain’s breezy peak,
  Or on the yellow winding sands,