WAITING FOR THE NEWS.
Hark! how the mad bells, peal on peal,
Swell to the jubilant sky,
Ringing a victory's woe and weal
Out to the passers-by:
Weal for the triumph of right again,
Woe for the brave lives flown,
And the hearts all dumb with their crushing pain,
That sit with the night alone.
Swell to the jubilant sky,
Ringing a victory's woe and weal
Out to the passers-by:
Weal for the triumph of right again,
Woe for the brave lives flown,
And the hearts all dumb with their crushing pain,
That sit with the night alone.
Weal or woe,—which is it for me?
What have I won from Fame?
How can I tell till I hear and see
The place they will give his name?
Here I sit like a blinded Fate,
Waiting what time may bring,—
When I open and enter the Future's gate,
Shall I meet corpse or king?
What have I won from Fame?
How can I tell till I hear and see
The place they will give his name?
Here I sit like a blinded Fate,
Waiting what time may bring,—
When I open and enter the Future's gate,
Shall I meet corpse or king?
What shall I meet? 'T is hard to hope,
But hardest of all to fear,
But hardest of all to fear,
