Читать книгу The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 05, March, 1858 - Various - Страница 11

  Victory! Victory!—Yes! ah, yes, thou republican Zion,

  Truly the kings of the earth are gathered and gone by together;

  Doubtless they marvelled to witness such things, were astonished,

    and so forth.

  Victory! Victory! Victory!—Ah, but it is, believe me,

  Easier, easier far, to intone the chant of the martyr

  Than to indite any paean of any victory. Death may

  Sometimes be noble; but life, at the best, will appear an illusion,

  While the great pain is upon us, it is great; when it is over,

  Why, it is over. The smoke of the sacrifice rises to heaven,

  Of a sweet savor, no doubt, to somebody; but on the altar,

  Lo, there is nothing remaining but ashes and dirt and ill odor.

  So it stands, you perceive; the labial muscles, that swelled with

  Vehement evolution of yesterday Marseillaises,

  Articulations sublime of defiance and scorning, to-day col-

  Lapse and languidly mumble, while men and women and papers

  Scream and re-scream to each other the chorus of Victory. Well, but

  I am thankful they fought, and glad that the Frenchmen were beaten.