[63? J 



POETRY 



WATERLOO, 



From the Third Canto of Childe Harold. 



THERE was a sound of reveliy by night, 

 And Belgium's capital had gathered thea 

 Her beauty and her chivaliy, and bi'ight 

 The lamps siione o'er fair women and brave men ^ 

 A thousand hearts beat hapjjily j and when 

 Music aro.-e with its vohiptuous swell, 

 Soft eyes look'd love to eyes which spake again, 

 And all went merry as a mari'iage bell ; 

 But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! 



Did ye not hear it r — \'o ; 'twas but the wind. 



Or the car rattling o'er t!ie stony street; 



On with the dance ! let joy be unconfined ; 



No sla.p till morn, when youth and pleasure meet 



To chase the glowing hours with flying feet — 



But hark ! — that heavy sound breaks in once more. 



As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 



And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! 



Aim ! aim ! it is — it is — the cannon's opening roar I 



Witiiin a windowed niche of that high hall 



Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain ; he did hear 



That sound the first amidst the festival. 



And caught its tone with death's prophetic ear ; 



And when they smiled because he deem'd it near. 



His heart more truly knew that peal too well 



Which stietch'd his father on a bloody bier. 



And roused the \ engeance blood alone ccmid quell : 



He rusii'd into the field, and, foremost, fighting, fell. 



Ah ! t'len and there was hurrying to and fro. 

 And gathering tears, and treinbl'ings of distre-s. 

 And checks all pale, which but an hour ago 

 Blush'd at the j)iaise of their own loveliness ; 



And 



