“Thank heaven! In every land they made “On our behalf large collections; “A capital job,--we got no less “Than eight millions in all directions.
“The money from every country flow’d “In our hands, which were far from unwilling, “And plenty of food they also sent, “And we gladly accepted each shilling.
“They sent us clothes and bedding enough, “And bread, and meat, and soups too; “The King of Prussia, to show his regard, “Would fain have sent us troops too.
“Our losses in property thus were replaced, “A matter of mere valuation; “But then the fright,--our terrible fright, “Admits of no compensation!”
I cheeringly said: “My worthy friends, “You should not lament and bawl so! “A far better city than yours was Troy, “And yet it was burnt down also.
“Rebuild your houses as fast as you can, “And dry up every puddle; “Get better engines and better laws, “That are not quite such a muddle.
“Don’t put in your nice mock-turtle soup “So very much Cayenne pepper; “Your carp are not wholesome with so much sauce, “Or when eaten with scales, like a leper.
“Your turkeys will not do much harm, “But be on your guard ’gainst disaster “From the knavish bird that lays its eggs “In the wig of the burgomaster.
“’Tis not for me to tell you the name “Of this bird of bad reputation; “When thinking about him, the food in my maw “Is stirr’d with indignation.”
More changed than even the city itself Appear’d the people within it; Like walking ruins they totter’d about, As if ready to tumble each minute.
The thin still thinner than ever appear’d, The fat appear’d still fatter, The children were old, and the old were young, (In their second childhood the latter).
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.