"Between two worlds life hovers like a star,
'Twixt night and morn, upon the horizon's verge:
How little do we know that which we are!
How less what we may be! The eternal surge
Of time and tide rolls on, and bears afar
Our bubbles: as the old burst, new emerge,
Lashed from the foam of ages; while the graves
Of empires heave but like some passing wave."
It was now announced by Herman Mordaunt in person, that the watch was set
for the night, and that each man might seek his rest. The crowded state of
the Nest was such, as to render it no easy matter to find a place in which
to sleep, straw being our only beds. At length we found our pallets, such
as they were; and, spite of all that had passed that evening, truth compels
me to admit that I was soon in a profound sleep. There wa
