向东、向北,或西方?我徘徊,问as I wander; Weary, yet eager and sure, Where shall I come to my love? Whitherward hasten to seek her? Ye daughters of Italy, tell me, Graceful and tender and dark, is she consorting with you? Thou that out-climbest the torrent, that tendest thy goats to the summit, Call to me, child of the Alp, has she been seen on the heights? Italy, farewell I bid thee! for whither she leads me, I follow. Farewell the vineyard! for I, where I but guess her, must go; Weariness welcome, and labour, wherever it be, if at last it Bring me in mountain or plain into the sight of my love. I. Claude to Eustace,--from Florence. Gone from Florence; indeed! and that is truly provoking;-- Gone to Milan, it seems; then I go also to Milan. Five days now departed; but they can travel but slowly;-- I quicker far; and I know, as it happens, the home they will go to.-- Why, what else should I do? Stay here and look at the pictures, Statues and churches? Alack, I am sick of the statues and pictures!-- No, to Bologna, Parma, Piacenza, Lodi, and Milan, Off go we to-night,--and the Venus go to the Devil! II. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio. Gone to Como, they said; and I have posted to Como. There was a letter left; but the cameriere had lost it. Could it have been for me? They came, however, to Como, And from Como went by the boat,--perhaps to the Splügen,-- Or to the Stelvio, say, and the Tyrol; also it might be By Porlezza across to Lugano, and so to the Simplon Possibly, or the St. Gothard,--or possibly, too, to Baveno, Orta, Turin, and elsewhere. Indeed, I am greatly bewildered. III. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio. I have been up the Splügen, and on the Stelvio also: Neither of these can I find they have followed; in no one inn, and This would be odd, have they written their names. I have been to Porlezza; There they have not been seen, and therefore not at Lugano. What shall I do? Go on through the Tyrol, Switzerland, Deutschland, Seeking, an inverse Saul, a kingdom to find only asses? There is a tide, at least, in the love affairs of mortals, Which, when taken at flood, leads on to the happiest fortune,-- Leads to the marriage-morn and the orange-flowers and the altar, And the long lawful line of crowned joys to crowned joys succeeding.-- Ah, it has ebbed with me! Ye gods, and when it was flowing, Pitiful fool that I was, to stand fiddle-faddling in that way! IV. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio. I have returned and found their names in the book at Como. Certain it is I was right, and yet I am also in error. Added in feminine hand, I read, By the boat to Bellaggio.-- So to Bellaggio again, with the words of he writing to aid me. Yet at Bellaggio I find no trace, no sort of remembrance. So I am here, and wait, and know every hour will remove them. V. Claude to Eustace,--from Bellaggio. I have but one chance left,--and that is going to Florence. But it is cruel to turn. The mountains seem to demand me,-- Peak and valley from far to beckon and motion me onward. Somewhere amid their folds she passes whom fain I would follow; Somewhere amid those heights she haply calls me to seek her. Ah, could I hear her call! could I catch the glimpse of her raiment! Turn, however, I must, though it seem I turn to desert her; For the sense of the thing is simply to hurry to Florence, Where the certainty yet may be learnt, I suppose, from the Ropers. VI. Mary Trevellyn, from Lucerne, to Miss Roper, at Florence. Dear Miss Roper,--By this you are safely away, we are hoping, Many a league from Rome; ere long we trust we shall see you. How have you travelled? I wonder;--was Mr. Claude your companion? As for ourselves, we went from Como straight to Lugano; So by the Mount St. Gothard; we meant to go by Porlezza, Taking the steamer, and stopping, as you had advised, at Bellaggio, Two or three days or more; but this was suddenly altered, After we left the hotel, on the very way to the steamer. So we have seen, I fear, not one of the lakes in perfection. Well, he is not come, and now, I suppose, he will not come. What will you think, meantime? and yet I must really confess it;-- What will you say? I wrote him a note. We left in a hurry, Went from Milan to Como, three days before we expected. But I thought, if he came all the way to Milan, he really Ought not to be disappointed: and so I wrote three lines to Say I had heard he was coming, desirous of joining our party;-- If so, then I said, we had started for Como, and meant to Cross the St. Gothard, and stay, we believed, at Lucerne, for the summer. Was it wro