CHAUNTS OF LIFE.
43
Dark with lowering fate,
At the massive gate
Of its kings it may
Stand and knock with tragic hand one day.
For the living tomb gives up its dead,
Bastilles yawn, and chains are rent asunder,
Little children now and hoary head,
Man and maiden, meet in joy and wonder;
Throng on radiant throng.
Brave and blithe and strong,
Gay with pine and palm,
Fill fair France with freedom's thunder-psalm.
Free and equal—rid of king and priest—
The rapt nation bids each neighbour nation
To partake the sacramental feast
And communion of the Federation:
And electrified
Masses, far and wide,
