As a picture when the pride
Of its colouring hath died,
And faded like a phantom into gloom:
‘As a night without a star,
Or a ship without a spar,
Or a mist that broods and gathers o’er the sea;
As a court without a throne,
Or a ring without a stone,
Seems the widow’d land of France bereft of thee.
‘Our darling, pearl, and pride!