Never To Talk To Ones Self Is

Let Us Have Wine And Women, Mirth And Laughter, Sermons And Soda Water The Day After.

Cervantes Smiled Spain's Chivalry Away; A Single Laugh Demolish'd The Right Arm Of His Own Country.

Italia! O Italia! Thou Who Hast The Fatal Gift Of Beauty.

Brisk Confidence Still Best With Woman Copes: Pique Her And Soothe In Turn-soon Passion Crowns Thy Hopes.

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!