The Poems of Emma Lazarus in two volumes | ||
DESTINY.
1856.
Paris, from throats of iron, silver, brass,Joy-thundering cannon, blent with chiming bells,
And martial strains, the full-voiced pæan swells.
The air is starred with flags, the chanted mass
Throngs all the churches, yet the broad streets swarm
With glad-eyed groups who chatter, laugh, and pass,
In holiday confusion, class with class.
And over all the spring, the sun-floods warm!
In the Imperial palace that March morn,
The beautiful young mother lay and smiled;
For by her side just breathed the Prince, her child,
Heir to an empire, to the purple born,
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Like a blown clarion—one more Bonaparte.
The Poems of Emma Lazarus in two volumes | ||