Thy days are full: they come,—the Persian and the Mede!”
There fell a moment’s thrilling silence round—
A breathless pause!—the hush of hearts that beat,
And limbs that quiver. Is there not a sound,
A gathering-cry, a tread of hurrying feet?
—’Twas but some echo in the crowded street,
Of far-heard revelry; the shout, the song,
The measured dance to music wildly sweet,
That speeds the stars their joyous course along—
Away! nor let a dream disturb the festal throng!