There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then Her beauty and her chivalry, and bright The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men. A thousand hearts beat happily; and when 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!

I do not believe in any religion, I will have nothing to do with immortality. We are miserable enough in this life without speculating upon another.

For the night Shows stars and women in a better light.

None are so desolate but something dear, Dearer than self, possesses or possess'd A thought, and claims the homage of a tear.

I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one.

If we must have a tyrant, let him at least be a gentleman who has been bred to the business, and let us fall by the axe and not by the butcher's cleaver.

Oh that the desert were my dwelling-place, With one fair spirit for my minister