Turgidus Alpinus.
My miserable countrymen, whose wont is once a-year
To lounge in watering-places, disagreeable and dear;
Who on pigmy Cambrian mountains, and in Scotch or Irish bogs
Imbibe incessant whisky, and inhale incessant fogs:
Ye know not with what transports the mad Alpine Clubman gushes,
When with rope and axe and knapsack to the realms of snow he rushes.
O can I e'er the hour forget - a voice within cries "Never!" -
From British beef and sherry dear which my young heart did sever?
My limbs were cased in flannel light, my frame in Norfolk jacket,
As jauntily I stepped upon the impatient Calais packet.
"Dark lowered the tempest overhead," the waters wildly rolled,
Wildly the moon sailed thro' the clouds, "and it grew wondrous cold;"
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