Full many that I had left as calves,
As oxen were herding together,
And many a gosling had now become
A goose in fullest feather.
The aged Gudel I found be-rouged,
And dress’d with syren-like brightness;
She had procured some dark black hair,
And teeth of dazzling whiteness.
The best preserved of all was my friend
The paper-dealer, good fellow;
Like John the Baptist, round his head
Was floating his hair so yellow.
I only saw D—— a long way off,
He slipp’d away so fleetly;
I hear that his soul was burnt, but insured
For a large amount discreetly.
I also saw my old Censor again
In the fog, and lowly stooping
I met him in the goose market by chance,
And he seem’d completely drooping.
We shook each other’s hands, and some tears
In his eye appear’d collecting;
He was so pleased to see me once more!
The scene was truly affecting.
I found not all, for many a one
Had quitted this scene for ever;
My Gumpelino,[61] ’mongst others, alas!
Was gone, to appear again never.
That noble one had surrender’d his soul
To Him by whom it was given,
And now had a glorified seraph become
In the blissful realms of heaven.
In vain for the crooked Adonis I sought,
(Though I look’d in every direction,)
Who used to sell pots and pans in the street,—
A very cheap collection.
And Sarras, the trusty dog, was dead,
A loss of a serious nature;
Friend Campe[62] would sooner have lost a whole host
Of writers than this good creature.