A joy too great and a grief too keen, A dream too brief, too sordid, too mean, A song, a wail, and a silence !-Wine ! More wine, hola! gossip mine! A WOMAN'S EXECUTION. (Paris, 1871.) SWEET-BREATHED and young, No nerves unstrung, Going to slaughter! II 'Good morning, friends, You'll love us better, Make us amends; We've burst your fetter ! III 'How the sun gleams! Give me your beams, |