TO MY LUGGAGE-LABELS.
Wonderful pictures of purple and gold,
Ultramarine, and vermilion, and bistre;
Splendid inscriptions of hostels untold,
Touching memorials breathing of "Mr.;"
"Schweizerhof," "Bernerhof," "Hofs" by the score;
Signs of the Bear and the Swan, and the Bellevue,
Gasthaus, Albergo, Posada, galore—
Beautiful wrecks, how I wish I could shelve you!
Visions of Venice—her stones and her smells!
Whiffs of Cologne—aromatic mementos;
Visiting cards, so to speak, of hotels;
Como's, Granada's, Zermatt's and Sorrento's
Ah! how ye cling to my boxes and bags,
Glued with a pigment that baffles removal;
Dogged adherents in dirt and in rags;
Labels, receive my profane disapproval!
Much as I prized you, when roaming afield,
Loved you, when Life was metheglyn and skittles,
Wished you the spell of remembrance to wield,
Calling the scenery back and the victuals;
Still, when it blows and it rains, and it irks,
Here in apartments adjoining a seaview,
After a meal that would terrify Turks,
Somehow I feel I can scarcely believe you.
Yes! It's too much to remember the past—
Here, amid shrimps, and agilities nameless;
Glaciers gigantic, and Restaurants vast
Chime not with sands and a tablecloth shameless;
Smoking a pestilent, sea-side cigar,
Mewed in a lodging with children and nurses,
Epitaphs gorgeous of far "Dolce far,"
Curse you with paterfamiliar curses!