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SAINT CLOUD.

(Paris, 5th September, 1815.]

Sort spread the southern summer night

Her veil of darksome blue;
Ten thousand stars combined to light

The terrace of Saint Cloud.

The evening breezes gently sigh'd,

Like breath of lover true, Bewailing the deserted pride

And wreck of sweet Saint Cloud,

The drum's deep roll was heard afar,

The bugle wildly blew
Good-night to Hulan and Hussar,

That garrison Saint Cloud.

The startled Naiads from the shade

With broken urns withdrew, And silenced was that proud cascade,

The glory of Saint Cloud.

We sate upon its steps of stone,

Nor could its silence rue,
When waked, to music of our own,

The echoes of Saint Cloud.

Slow Seine might hear each lovely note

Fall light as summer dew,
While through the moonless air they float,

Prolong'd from fair Saint Cloud.

And sure a melody more sweet

His waters never knew,
Though music's self was wont to meet

With Princes at Saint Cloud.

Nor then, with more delighted ear,

The circle round her drew,
Than ours, when gather'd found to hear

Our songstress! at St. Cloud.

Few happy hours poor mortals pass,

Then give those hours their due,
And rank among the foremost class

Our evenings at Saint Cloud.

*[These lines were written after an evening spent at Saint Cloud with the late Lady Alvanley and her daughters, one of whom was the songstress alluded to in the text.]

3

THE

DANCE OF DEATH.

L
Night and morning were at meeting

Over Waterloo ;
Cocks had sung their earliest greeting ;

Faint and low they crew,
For no paly beam yet shone
On the heights of Mount Saint John;
Tempest-clouds prolong'd the sway
Of timeless darkness over day;
Whirlwind, thunder-clap, and shower,
Mark'd it a predestined hour.
Broad and frequent through the night
Flash'd the sheets of levin-light;
Muskets, glancing lightnings back,
Show'd the dreary bivouack

Where the soldier lay,
Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain,
Wishing dawn of morn again,

Though death should come with day.

II. 'Tis at such a tide and hour, Wizard, witch, and fiend, have power,

* [Originally published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Annual Register, vol v.]

And ghastly forms through mist and shower

Gleam on the gifted ken;
And then the affrighted prophet's ear
Drinks whispers strange of fate and fear,
Presaging death and ruin near

Among the sons of men ;-
Apart from Albyn's war-array,
'T was then grey Allan sleepless lay;
Grey Allan, who, for many a day,

Had follow'd stout and stern,
Where, through battle's rout and reel,
Storm of shot and hedge of steel,
Led the grandson of Lochiel,

Valiant Fassiefern.
Through steel and shot he leads no more,
Low laid 'mid friends' and foemen’s gore-
But long his native lake's wild shore,
And Sunart rough, and high Ardgower

And Morven long shall tell,
And proud Bennevis hear with awe,
How, upon bloody Quatre-Bras,
Brave Cameron heard the wild hurra

Of conquest as he fell."

III.

'Lone on the outskirts of the host,
The weary sentinel held post,
And heard, through darkness far aloof,
The frequent clang of courser's hoof,
Where held the cloak'd patrol their course,
And spurr'd 'gainst storm the swerving horse;

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