Who Tracks The Steps Of Glory To

Self-love For Ever Creeps Out, Like A Snake, To Sting Anything Which Happens To Stumble Upon It.

Tis Pleasing To Be School'd In A Strange Tongue By Female Lips And Eyes--that Is, I Mean, When Both The Teacher And The Taught Are Young, As Was The Case, At Least, Where I Have Been; They Smile So When One's Right; And When One's Wrong They Smile Still More.

I Learned To Love Despair.

Tis Not On Youth's Smooth Cheek The Blush Alone, Which Fades So Fast, But The Tender Bloom Of Heart Is Gone, Ere Youth Itself Be Past.

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!