Pure Friendship's Well-feigned Blush.

Ah, Happy Years! Once More Who Would Not Be A Boy?

Accursed Be The City Where The Laws Would Stifle Nature's!

As Falls The Dew On Quenchless Sands, Blood Only Serves To Wash Ambition's Hands.

For The Angel Of Death Spread His Wings On The Blast, And Breathed In The Face Of The Foe As He Passed; And The Eyes Of The Sleepers Waxed Deadly And Chill, And Their Hearts But Once Heaved, And For Ever Grew Still!

For The Night Shows Stars And Women In A Better Light.