High hopes o’erthrown?—It is when lands rejoice,
When cities blaze and lift th’ exulting voice,
And wave their banners to the kindling heaven!
Fear ye the festal hour!
When mirth o’erflows, then tremble!—’Twas a night
Of gorgeous revel, wreaths, and dance, and light,
When through the regal bower
The trumpet peal’d ere yet the song was done,
And there were shrieks in golden Babylon,
And trampling armies, ruthless in their power.