ADIEU TO FRANCE.
Adieu to sunny France! I call it so,
Because my betters have. Yet for my part
I have been all but perished in her clime,
Frost-stricken to the bone, and to the heart;
The Seine in one night turned to ice! I own
I'd not expected this, short of the Arctic zone.
Wood by the pound! 'T was an astonishment,
Next to the shock of water sold by measure,
Each tiny stem and stalk so strictly weighed,
Each little grape-vine faggot such a treasure!
Oh! for the coal of England, glowing bright,
Or even my slighted friend, the homelier anthracite
I came in Autumn, when the vines had shrunk
From prop and trellis; yet the verdant trees
Danced to the gale that swept the Elysian fields,
And rose and pansy dared the chilling breeze;
I leave in Winter, and so cannot say,
How her beau ciel may smile 'neath happier seasons' sway
