Europe and the Allies of the Past and of Today: With a Complete History of the Origin and Progress of the Present Struggle in the East

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1855
 

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Page 204 - twas but the wind, Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet To chase the glowing Hours with flying feet But hark!
Page 203 - THERE was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's Capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; A thousand hearts beat happily; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell; But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell ! Did ye not hear it?
Page 95 - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory ; We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, But we left him alone with his glory.
Page 94 - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, Nor in sheet, nor in shroud, we wound him ; But he lay, like a warrior taking his rest, With his martial cloak around him.
Page 204 - Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated ; who could guess If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise?
Page 94 - NOT a drum was heard, not a funeral note, As his corse to the rampart we hurried ; Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot O'er the grave where our hero we buried.
Page 203 - There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men ; A thousand hearts beat happily ; and when Music arose with its voluptuous swell, Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again, And all went merry as a marriage bell...
Page 204 - Ah ! then and there was hurrying to and fro, And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; And there were sudden partings, such as press The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs Which ne'er might be repeated...
Page 9 - Constantine ; but which, in a few hours, had been stripped of the pomp of royalty. A melancholy reflection, on the vicissitudes of human greatness, forced itself on his mind ; and he repeated an elegant distich of Persian poetry : "The spider has wove his web in the Imperial palace ; and the owl hath sung her watch-song on the towers of Afrasiab.
Page 95 - Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone, And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him ; — But little he'll reck, if they let him sleep on, In the grave where a Briton has laid him.

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