Oh red the blushing east awoke And bright the morn on Cassel broke Along the green hillside we flew, Flashed the clear sunshine in the dew That on the clustering herbage hung
That to the tangled copse‐wood clung That shot like stars through every shade And glanced on every wildwood glade. At length by many a wind descending That ever to the plain were bending
Farther, and farther still we pressed From Cassels insulated
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crest That back retiring fainter still, Showed the rich outlines of its hill, And faded in the purple haze,
That spoke the coming noontide blaze. That noontide blaze delayed not long On Tournays towʼrs
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twas fierce and strong And ere we gained the middle way The glow was like an Afric day
Full upon Lilles high ramparts round
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On massive wall and moated mound Shot the fierce sun his glaring ray As bent we on our burning way Till past the narrow drawbridge length
The massive gates portcullised strength And moat whose waves found steepy shore
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Where forward high the bastion bore
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And where the sentinels were set High on the dizzy parapet
Till the last portals echoes woke, And Lille upon us sudden broke Giving to view another scene, So clear, so noble, so serene, Twould seem enchantments varied hue
On palace street and avenue Those ancient piles rose huge and high, In rich irregularity Colossal form and figure fair, Seemed moving, breathing, living there,
The vaulted arch where sunlight pure Might never pierce the deep obscure Where broadly barred, the ancient door, Was with rich carving imaged oer The bending Gothic gable roof
Of past magnificence gave proof The modern windows formal square, With Saxon arch was mingled there Whose stern recesses dark and deep The figured iron stanchions
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keep.
a