Leontine, the children, Stolberg, Wentzel, and all the rest. Farewell
my angel. God preserve you.

Your most faithful v.B.


Ofen, June 23, '52.

_My Darling_,--I have just left the steamer, and do not know how
better to utilize the moment at my disposal until Hildebrand follows
with my things than by sending you a love-token from this far-easterly
but pretty spot. The Emperor has graciously assigned me quarters in
his palace, and I am sitting here in a large vaulted chamber at the
open window, into which the evening bells of Pesth are pealing. The
view outward is charming. The castle stands high; immediately below me
the Danube, spanned by the suspension-bridge; behind it Pesth, which
would remind you of Dantzig, and farther away the endless plain
extending far beyond Pesth, disappearing in the bluish-red dusk of
evening. To the left of Pesth I look up the Danube, far, very far,
away; to my left, _i.e._, on the right-hand shore, it is fringed first
by the city of Ofen, behind it hills like the Berici near Venetia blue
and bluer, then bluish-red in the evening sky, which glows behind. In
the midst of both cities is the large sheet of water as at Linz,
intersected by the suspension-bridge and a wooded island. It is really
splendid; only you, my angel, are lacking for me to enjoy this
prospect _with you_; then it would be _quite_ nice. Then, too, the
road hither, at least from Gran to Pesth, would have pleased you.
Imagine Odenwald and Taunus moved close together, the waters of the
Danube filling the interval; and occasionally, particularly near
Wisserad, a little Dürrenstein-Agstein. The shady side of the trip was