Ho! city of the gay!
Paris! what festal rite
Doth call thy thronging million forth,
All eager for the sight?
Thy soldiers line the streets
In fixed and stern array,
With buckled helm and bayonet,
As on the battle-day.
By square, and fountain side,
Heads in dense masses rise,
And tower and battlement and...
I Love contemplating—apart
From all his homicidal glory—
The traits that soften to our heart
Napoleon’s glory!
’T was when his banners at Boulogne
Armed in our island every freeman,
His navy chanced to capture one
Poor British seaman.
They suffered him—I know not how—
Unprisoned on the shore to roam;...
Anonymous translation from the French
THE WORK is done! the spent flame burns no more,
The furnace fires smoke and die,
The iron flood boils over. Ope the door,
And let the haughty one pass by!
Roar, mighty river, rush upon your course,
A bound,—and, from your dwelling past,
Dash forward, like a torrent from its source,
A...
From the French from Fraser’s Magazine
“Tu domines notre âge; ange ou démon, qu’importe!”
ANGEL or demon! thou—whether of light
The minister, or darkness—still dost sway
This age of ours; thine eagle’s soaring flight
Bears us, all breathless, after it away.
The eye that from thy presence fain would stray
Shuns thee in...
From “Childe Harold,” Canto III.
THERE sunk the greatest, nor the worst of men,
Whose spirit antithetically mixed
One moment of the mightiest, and again
On little objects with like firmness fixed,
Extreme in all things! hadst thou been betwixt,
Thy throne had still been thine, or never been;
For daring made thy rise as fall:...
