[Proxool-user] L the vineyard! for I, where I but guess her, must go; Weariness welcome,

[Rosencrans <the...@fo...>]

Spluegen, 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