THE PRIZE OF BEAUTY?
The birds sang, “Unto us the prize
“Of beauty must be given;
“Our songs at morn and evening rise,
“Filling the vault of heaven.”
The flowers uplifted their bright heads
From where they had their birth;
“Nay, for our scented beauty sheds
“A charm o’er all the earth.”
The trees from ev’ry leafy glade
Their claims with haste expressed;
They urged that they “gave cooling shade,
“’Neath which mankind could rest.”
The stream in gentle music said,
“Like birds I sweetly sing;
“Like flowers a charm o’er earth I spread,
“Like trees I coolness fling:
“Thus all their beauties I combine;
“And unto me is given
“A greater glory, for I shine
“With light that flows from heaven.”
Where we come to patches of grain-land we find the ploughman busy with his oxen turning up the fresh earth. The oxen are coupled together by short beams of wood, which are fastened to their heads, and must keep the poor animals in a constant state of misery; in other respects the cattle seem well cared for.
Occasionally we meet droves of sheep tended by boys and dogs. The sheep crop a precarious livelihood from the bits of waste land near the river and on the slopes of hills, whose aspect is unfavourable to the culture of the vine.
Arriving at Zeltingen, on the right bank, we taste one of the most delicious wines on the Moselle; it is of a fine rich colour, with a highly-scented flavour, but is withal light and sparkling. In the following incident it will be seen that this wine was properly appreciated by the prebends who owned the Martinshof farm in former days.