Sorrow Is Knowledge, Those That Know The

There Was A Sound Of Revelry By Night, And Belgium's Capital Had Gathered Then Her Beauty And Her Chivalry, And Bright The Lamps Shone O'er Fair Women And Brave Men. A Thousand Hearts Beat Happily; And When Music Arose With Its Voluptuous Swell, Soft Eyes Looked Love To Eyes Which Spake Again, And All Went Merry As A Marriage Bell. But Hush! Hark! A Deep Sound Strikes Like A Rising Knell!

Brisk Confidence Still Best With Woman Copes: Pique Her And Soothe In Turn-soon Passion Crowns Thy Hopes.

None Are So Desolate But Something Dear, Dearer Than Self, Possesses Or Possess'd A Thought, And Claims The Homage Of A Tear.

She Walks In Beauty, Like The Night Of Cloudless Climes And Starry Skies; And All That's Best Of Dark And Bright Meet In Her Aspect And Her Eyes.

The Waves Were Dead; The Tides Were In Their Grave, The Moon, Their Mistress, Had Expir'd Before; The Winds Were Wither'd In The Stagnant Air, And The Clouds Perish'd; Darkness Had No Need Of Aid From Them-she Was The Universe.