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| WHERE is Paris, the beautiful city? | |
| Has it dissolved like a mirage wondrous, | |
| Its ladies bright and gallants witty, | |
| Passed like an earthquake shock from under us? | |
| Swept away by the onset thunderous | 5 |
| Of Teutons mad with the battle-joy? | |
| Fate and time from beauty sunder us: | |
| Where is the famous city Troy? | |
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| Where is Napoleon? Where each captain | |
| Who rode in his steel-clad train but lately, | 10 |
| Every one rare visions rapt in | |
| Of a France that loomed oer Europe greatly, | |
| Of a Gallic Empire, strong and stately, | |
| A baby-giant with war for a toy? | |
| Where do those phantoms march sedately? | 15 |
| But where is Hector who fought for Troy? | |
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| Where are the ladies who roamed at large in | |
| That sweet city, mid glee incessant, | |
| Drinking wine of moist Marne margin | |
| Under the soft moons silver crescent, | 20 |
| With lively laughter effervescent, | |
| And gay love-games that are loath to cloy? | |
| Where is that ecstasy evanescent? | |
| But where is Helen who loved in Troy? | |
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