NATHAN: MY PILGRIM'S POUCH.The Guardian, Volumes 8-9
Monday, January 10, 2011
Finlander, or "Hiawatha," as we familiarly called him
I left on the 21st of January. The evening before I called on some friends to take a final leave, and some called on me for the same purpose. My friends, the Pole, the Finn, the Saxon, and Erben, chatted around my little log fire until a late hour. Talking about the sweets of friendship and the sadness of severing its ties, the Finlander, or "Hiawatha," as we familiarly called him, said, " Well, we shall all make a journey to another still sunnier Italy, won't we ? And we shall walk together through the streets of another Eternal City, where we shall find no ruins to dream over. There nothing will fade or grow old." "Yes," I said, "what our eyes fail to see now, our ears to hear, our hearts to feel, we shall experience up there. There we can speak more about these things."