But when the dance was o'er, and arm in arm
(The full heart beating 'gainst the elbow warm),
We pass'd to the great refreshment hall,
Where the heap'd cheese-cakes and the comfits small
Lay, like a hive of sunbeams, to burn
Around the margin of the negus urn;
When my poor quivering hand you finger'd twice,
And, with inquiring accents, whisper'd "Ice,
Water, or cream?" I could no more dissemble,
But dropp'd upon the couch all in a tremble.
A swimming faintness misted o'er my brain,
The corks seem'd starting from the brisk champagne,
The custards fell untouch'd upon the floor,
Thine eyes met mine. That night we danced no more!
LOUIS NAPOLEON'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY WILLIAM AYTOUN.
Guards! who at Smolensko fled—
No—I beg your pardon—bled!
For my Uncle blood you've shed,
Do the same for me.
Now's the day and now's the hour,
Heads to split and streets to scour;
Strike for rank, promotion, power,
Sawg, and eau de vie.
Who's afraid a child to kill?
Who respects a shopman's till?
Who would pay a tailor's bill?
Let him turn and flee.
Who would burst a goldsmith's door,
Shoot a dun, or sack a store?
Let him arm, and go before—
That is, follow me!
See the mob, to madness riled,
Up the barricades have piled;
In among them, man and child,
Unrelentingly!
Shoot the men! there's scarcely one
In a dozen's got a gun:
Stop them, if they try to run,
With artillery!
Shoot the boys! each one may grow
Into—of the state—a foe
(Meaning by the state, you know,
My supremacy!)
Shoot the girls and women old!
Those may bear us traitors bold—
These may be inclined to scold
Our severity.