[From Childe Harold.]
WATERLOO.

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 marriagebell;

But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!

thine no less.

and

As yet such are around thee, - but thy fire

Shall be more tempered, and thy

hope far higher.

Sweet be thy cradled slumbers! O'er the sea,

And from the mountains where I

arm! it is-it is - the cannon's opening roar!