Alfred de Rosann — page 43: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

34 ALFRED DE ROSANN. The demon of slaughter Lent nerve to his hand, When Erivain’s water. Roll’d red to the land ; While the murmurs of wo, and the screams of the dying. Were mixed with the agonized shouts of the flying. Like the eagle that governs the regions of heaven, Like the lion that widely extends his domain, Meet praise and meet honours to Roldan are given, Renowned in the dale, and beloved on the plain. The subject of story, The boast of the brave ; The paladins’ glory, And mighty to save, When the murmurs of wo, and the screams of the dying, Are mixed with the agonized shouts of the flying. Then march to the field—for the columns are wending,— The brands are undrawn, and the sheaths are away ; The Angel of Death to each army is sending His pinions of slaughter-—O haste to the fray ! ’ The sun that is beaming, High over their heads, At eve shall be gleaming On their lowly beds; For the murmurs of wo, and the screams of the dying, Shall mix with the agonized shouts of the flying. The banner of conquest with Roldan is waving, His arm has well wielded the chivalrous brand; The foe is beneath him for clemency craving— Orlando’s the pride and the boast of the land. When warriors are sounding Alarms on the shield, When chargers are bounding, He’s first In the field, Where the murmurs of wo, and the screams of the dying, Are mixed with the agonized shouts of the flying. The song was concluded,—Eloise threw a few small pieces of money from the window,—the chanteuse looked up to express her gratitude with a glance, and passed on. : There is something peculiarly attractive in the mar- tial or national airs of France. Their versification is good ; and in this point they are infinitely superior to Gomichbooks,;cGom