NOAH'S ARK.

[Wilhelm Muller, born October 7th, 1794, at Dessau, studied philology at Berlin, served (1813) as a vol

unteer in the Prussian army, was (1819) appointed in

Carpenter who was cleaving a piece of wood with two wedges, which he put into the cleft one after another, as the split opened. The Carpenter soon after getting away to his dinner, and leaving his work half done, the Ape would needs turn log-structor of classical languages and librarian in his native cleaver, and coming to the piece of wood, city, where he died September 30th, 1827. His son, Max pulled out one wedge without putting in Müller, edited his Gedichte, in two volumes (Leipzig, the other; so that the wood, having noth- 1869).] ing to keep it asunder, closed immediately again, and catching the meddling fool fast by the two forefeet, there held him till the surly Carpenter returned, who, without ceremony, knocked him on the head for meddling with his work.

"This Fable, spouse, instructs us that we ought not to meddle with other people's business."

BEFORE THE DOORS.

[Friedrich Ruckert, born May 16th, 1788, at Schweinfurt, in Bavaria, studied philology and literature at Würzburg and Jena, spent one year in Italy, and was in 1826 appointed professor of the Oriental languages at the University of Erlangen, and went in 1840 in the sane capacity to the University of Berlin. In 1849 he retired to his estate at Neusess, near Coburg, where he devoted himself exclusively to literary work up to his death, which took place January 31st, 1866.]

Where riches dwell I knocked, but knocked in vain,

A copper from the window thrown was all my gain.

I tried to steal into the cot where Love abode, But, earlier still than I, a dozen were in my road.

I gently tapped at Fame's tall castle bright,
"We only open here to lord and knight."

I sought the roof-tree that protects the poor,
Within were sobs, and wails, and lament sore.

In vain I asked where did Content abide,
But none there was who knew it, far and
wide.

But yet, I know a house, for aye secure,
Where at the last I'll lightly tap the door.

Within its bounds dwells many a noble guest,
For many a thousand in the grave there's rest.
Translated by HENRY PHILLIPS, JR.

That Adam ate, not that he drank,

Was he from Eden's garden driven;
And what he lost by eating then

To us anew by wine is given;
Yes! wine restores those Eden days,
So here's to wine and jolly lays!

And when once more throughout the world,
By baser appetite betrayed,

Man only thought what he would eat,

And gluttony alone prevailed,
The Deluge came, to cure the ill,
But Noah spared, the vine to till.

Aboard a mighty cask he went,

It bore him high above the tide;
And many jolly days and nights

He rolled across the waters wide;
What kept old Noah safe and sound?
Why wine, not water, I'll be bound!

Subsided now the angry flood,

The gallant house, so round and tight,
Stuck fast upon a mountain-top:

I' faith, it was a goodly sight!
And Noah went, with heart elate,
The hill to plant with luscious grape.

And there upon the mountain-top
To-day that very ark is seen,
In Heidelberg, on the Neckar,

The giant tun of tuns, I ween:
So now we know who gave the vine
To those who dwell along the Rhine.

If any mortal rash should dare

To cast a slur on wine divine,
Toss him in the depths of ocean

And let him pickle in the brine!
While we enjoy our Eden days,
And drink and sing our jolly lays!
Translated by Charles DextER.