Page:National Lyrics.pdf/355



"De tout ce qui t'aimoit n'est-il plus rien qui t'aime?"

ones, Love and Death! Ye are the strong in this world of ours, Ye meet at the banquets, ye dwell midst the flowers, —Which hath the conqueror's wreath?

Thou art the victor, Love! Thou art the fearless, the crowned, the free, The strength of the battle is given to thee, The spirit from above!