And it don’t seem a dy too much;
There ain’t a lydy livin’ in the land
As I’d swop for my dear old Dutch,”
the pathos of life-long love is conveyed quite as poignantly, if not so verbosely, as by Goethe in “Hermann and Dorothea.” It is not literature, but it is poetry. When Mlle. Yvette Guilbert sings—
“J’ termine ma lettre en t’embrassant,
Adieu, mon homme,
Quoique tu ne soy pas caressant
J’ t’adore comme
J’adorais l’ Bon Dieu comm’ Papa,
Quand j’étais p’tite,