-----Now, gentle reader, is our journey ended,
Let the bumper then go round!For all sighs and groans of anguish
Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.
Because his pangs e'en theirs exceed.
Quivers in air,Sleep-causing fragrance,
So again and again sing: BIBAMUS!For joy through a wide-open portal it guides,Bright glitter the clouds, as the curtain divides,An a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides,
IX. The Convivial Book :--
Perchance e'en over the sea;Move onward, ye sheep, then, move onward!
IF Venus in the evening skyIs seen in radiant majesty,If rod-like comets, red as blood,Are 'mongst the constellations view'd,Out springs the Ignoramus, yelling:"The star's exactly o'er my dwelling!What woeful prospect, ah, for me!Then calls his neighbour mournfully:"Behold that awful sign of evil,Portending woe to me, poor devil!My mother's asthma ne'er will leave her,My child is sick with wind and fever;I dread the illness of my wife,A week has pass'd, devoid of strife,--And other things have reach'd my ear;The Judgment Day has come, I fear!"
Yet he's both loving and fair;He wears on his neck a chain of gold,
Beareth no fruit, and, in truth, 'tis not produced by each land."So I entered in. Thou pluckedst the fruit from the branches,
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