Ella; or, The emperor's son

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Страница 266 - 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...
Страница 337 - Statesman, yet friend to Truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, served no private end, Who gained no title, and who lost no friend ; Ennobled by himself, by all approved, And praised, unenvied, by the Muse he loved.
Страница 317 - The letter, as I live, with all the business I writ to his holiness. Nay then, farewell ! I have touch'd the highest point of all my greatness : And, from that full meridian of my glory, I haste now to my setting. I shall fall Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more.
Страница 81 - It has a strange quick jar upon the ear, That cocking of a pistol, when you know A moment more will bring the sight to bear Upon your person, twelve yards off, or so ; A gentlemanly distance, not too near, If you have got a former friend for foe ; But after being fired at once or twice, The ear becomes more Irish, and less nice.
Страница 4 - It is a vain attempt To bind th* ambitious and unjust by treaties ; These they elude a thousand specious ways ; Or, if they cannot find a fair pretext, They blush not in the face of heaven to break them.
Страница 151 - O but they say the tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony: Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain. For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
Страница 118 - Three children sliding on the ice, All on a summer's day, It so fell out they all fell in, The rest they ran away.
Страница 77 - LIFE. WE are born ; we laugh ; we weep ; We love ; we droop ; we die ! Ah ! wherefore do we laugh, or weep ? Why do we live, or die ? Who knows that secret deep ? Alas, not I ! Why doth the violet spring Unseen by human eye ? Why do the radiant seasons bring Sweet thoughts that quickly fly ? Why do our fond hearts cling To things that die ? We toil, — through pain and wrong ; We fight,— and fly ; We love ; we lose ; and then, ere long, Stone-dead we lie.
Страница 206 - Farewell to thee, France ! — But when Liberty rallies Once more in thy regions, remember me then, — The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys ; Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it again. Yet, yet I may baffle the hosts that surround us, And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice — There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us...
Страница 248 - Enough, that we are parted — that there rolls A flood of headlong fate between our souls, Whose darkness severs me as wide from thee As hell from heaven, to all eternity !

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