The moon to love her silver-horns is said,
But makes a sorry show;
She likes them on her husband's head,—
She's right to have it so
KLOPSTOCK AND WIELAND.
(WHEN THEIR MINIATURES WERE HANGING SIDE BY SIDE.)
In truth, when I have crossed dark Lethe's river,
The man upon the right I'll love forever,
For 'twas he first that wrote for me.
For all the world the left man wrote, full clearly,
And so we all should love him dearly;
Come, left man! I must needs kiss thee!
THE MUSES' REVENGE.
AN ANECDOTE OF HELICON.
Once the nine all weeping came
To the god of song
"Oh, papa!" they there exclaim—
"Hear our tale of wrong!
"Young ink-lickers swarm about
Our dear Helicon;
There they fight, manoeuvre, shout,
Even to thy throne.
"On their steeds they galop hard
To the spring to drink,
Each one calls himself a bard—
Minstrels—only think!
"There they—how the thing to name!
Would our persons treat—
This, without a blush of shame,
We can ne'er repeat;