SAINT CLOUD [Paris, 5th September 1815.] SOFT spread the southern summer night The evening breezes gently sigh'd, Like breath of lover true, Bewailing the deserted pride And wreck of sweet Saint Cloud. The drum's deep roll was heard afar, The startled Naiads from the shade And silenced was that proud cascade, We sate upon its steps of stone, · Nor could its silence1 rue, When waked, to music of our own, The echoes of Saint Cloud. Slow Seine might hear each lovely note And sure a melody more sweet Though music's self was wont to meet Nor then, with more delighted ear, Few happy hours poor mortals pass,- [MS.-"Absence."] 2 [MS.-" Midnight."] [These lines were written after an evening spent at Saint Cloud with the late Lady Alvanley and her daughters, one of whom was the songstress alluded to in the text.] THE DANCE OF DEATH.' I. NIGHT and morning2 were at meeting Over Waterloo ; Cocks had sung their earliest greeting; For no paly beam yet shone On the heights of Mount Saint John; Broad and frequent through the night Flash'd the sheets of levin-light; 1 [Originally published in 1815, in the Edinburgh Annual Register, vol. v.] 2 [MS.-" Dawn and darkness."] Muskets, glancing lightnings back, Chill and stiff, and drench'd with rain, Though death should come with day. II. "Tis at such a tide and hour, Wizard, witch, and fiend, have power, And then the affrighted prophet's ear Among the sons of men ;— Apart from Albyn's war-array, Led the grandson of Lochiel, Valiant Fassiefern. Through steel and shot he leads no more, |