Of untold ages first began their course, O human hearts! So fickle and so thoughtless-glad to-day THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO BY LORD BYRON There was a sound of revelry by night, Her beauty and her chivalry; and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men; 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! Did ye not hear it?-No; 'twas but the wind, No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet; Within a windowed niche of that high hall Sate Brunswick's fated chieftain; he did hear That sound the first amidst the festival, And caught its tone with Death's prophetic ear; Which stretched his father on a bloody bier, Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness; Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise? And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, Or whispering, with white lips, "The foe! They come! they come!" And wild and high the "Camerons' gathering" rose! With the fierce native daring which instils The stirring memory of a thousand years, And Evan's, Donald's fame, rings in each clansman's ears! And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, Over the unreturning brave,-alas! Ere evening to be trodden like the grass Which now beneath them, but above shall grow In its next verdure, when this fiery mass Of living valor, rolling on the foe, And burning with high hope, shall molder cold and low. Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay, The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, The morn the marshaling in arms,-the day, The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which when rent, ODE ON SAINT CECILIA'S DAY BY JOHN DRYDEN From Harmony, from heavenly Harmony, This universal frame began: Of jarring atoms lay And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, Arise, ye more than dead! Then cold and hot and moist and dry And Music's power obey. From harmony, from heavenly harmony From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, What passion can not Music raise and quell? His listening brethren stood around, To worship that celestial sound. Less than a God they thought there could not dwell Within the hollow of that shell That spoke so sweetly and so well. What passion can not Music raise and quell? The trumpet's loud clangor Excites us to arms, With shrill notes of anger And mortal alarms. The double double double beat The soft complaining flute In dying notes discovers The woes of hopeless lovers, Whose dirge is whisper'd by the warbling lute. Sharp violins proclaim Their jealous pangs and desperation, Fury, frantic indignation, Depth of pains, and height of passion For the fair disdainful dame. But oh! what art can teach, What human voice can reach The sacred organ's praise? Notes inspiring holy love, Notes that wing their heavenly ways |