Yet tho' we now part, in the bless'd realms above,
We will meet soon again, free from life's woeful lot;
We will meet to dear joy, we will meet to sweet love,
Then no more need I say "O! forget me not."
Z.
Gleaner, I-325, Mar. 1809, Lancaster (Penn.).
TRANSLATION FROM THE GERMAN.
Whoever has perused the prophetick metrical compositions of Van Vander Horderclogeth must surely remember the poem on the 3697 fol. of which the following is a translation; it commences thus—
Vrom Grouter gruder grout gropstock, Zordur zoop, &c.
All gloomy and sorrowful Beelzebub sat,
With his imps and his devils around,
When the thundering knocker of Hell's outer grate
Rang a peal so terrifick and loud on the gate,
That all Erebus echoed the sound.
Full swift to the portal the young devils flew,
And the long gloomy passage unbarr'd;
When a lanthorn-jaw'd monster stood forth to their view,
So meagre his figure, so pale was his hue,
That the devils all trembled and star'd.
All green were his eyes in their sockets decay'd,
His nose was projecting and wide,
In a dusty frock-coat was his carcase array'd,
On his scull he a three-corner'd scraper display'd,
And two volumes[34] he bore at his side.
So foul were his breath and the words that he said,
That his teeth had long rotted away—
And now to the devils a signal he made,
To show him their master, the devils obey'd,
And brought him where Beelzebub lay.