Yet He Was Jealous, Though He Did

There Is No Instinct Like That Of The Heart.

Fools Are My Theme, Let Satire Be My Song.

No Ear Can Hear Nor Tongue Can Tell The Tortures Of The Inward Hell!

Fills The Air Around With Beauty.

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!