StoryTitle("caps", "The Eve of Waterloo") ?>
Eve of Waterloo," by Lord Byron (1788-1824). Here is another old
reading-book gem that will always be dear to every boy's heart if he only
reads it a few times.
PoemStart() ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "There was a sound of revelry by night,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And Belgium's capital had gathered then", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "A thousand hearts beat happily; and when", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Music arose with its voluptuous swell,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Soft eyes looked love to eyes which spake again,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And all went merry as a marriage-bell:", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!", "") ?>
PagePoem(178, "L0", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Did ye not hear it? No; 'twas but the wind,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Or the car rattling o'er the stony street.", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "On with the dance! let joy be unconfined!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "To chase the glowing hours with flying feet!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "But hark!—that heavy sound breaks in once more,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "As if the clouds its echo would repeat;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And nearer, clearer, deadlier, than before!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Arm! arm! it is—it is the cannon's opening roar!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And cheeks all pale, which, but an hour ago,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Blushed at the praise of their own loveliness;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And there were sudden partings, such as press", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Which ne'er might be repeated: who could guess", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise?", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And near, the beat of the alarming drum", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Roused up the soldier ere the morning star;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "While thronged the citizens with terror dumb,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Or whispering with white lips, \"The foe! They come! They come!\"", "") ?>
PagePoem(179, "L0", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Dewy with Nature's tear-drops, as they pass,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Grieving, if aught inanimate e'er grieves,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Over the unreturning brave—alas!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Ere evening to be trodden like the grass", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Which, now beneath them, but above shall grow", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "In its next verdure, when this fiery mass", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Of living valour, rolling on the foe,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Last eve in Beauty's circle proudly gay;", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "The morn the marshalling in arms,—the day,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "Battle's magnificently stern array!", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "The thunder-clouds close o'er it, which, when rent,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L0", "", "The earth is covered thick with other clay,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Which her own clay shall cover, heaped and pent,", "") ?>
PoemLine("L2", "", "Rider, and horse—friend, foe—in one red burial blent!", "") ?>
PoemAttribution("100", SmallCapsText("Lord Byron.")) ?>
PoemEnd() ?>