announcing, in rifle-volleys death-winged, under her Star Banner, to the
tune of Yankee-doodle-doo, that she is born, and, whirlwind-like, will
envelope the whole world!

Sovereigns die and Sovereignties: how all dies, and is for a Time only;
is a 'Time-phantasm, yet reckons itself real!' The Merovingian Kings,
slowly wending on their bullock-carts through the streets of Paris,
with their long hair flowing, have all wended slowly on,--into Eternity.
Charlemagne sleeps at Salzburg, with truncheon grounded; only Fable
expecting that he will awaken. Charles the Hammer, Pepin Bow-legged,
where now is their eye of menace, their voice of command? Rollo and his
shaggy Northmen cover not the Seine with ships; but have sailed off on
a longer voyage. The hair of Towhead (Tete d'etoupes) now needs no
combing; Iron-cutter (Taillefer) cannot cut a cobweb; shrill Fredegonda,
shrill Brunhilda have had out their hot life-scold, and lie silent,
their hot life-frenzy cooled. Neither from that black Tower de Nesle
descends now darkling the doomed gallant, in his sack, to the Seine
waters; plunging into Night: for Dame de Nesle how cares not for this
world's gallantry, heeds not this world's scandal; Dame de Nesle is
herself gone into Night. They are all gone; sunk,--down, down, with
the tumult they made; and the rolling and the trampling of ever new
generations passes over them, and they hear it not any more forever.

And yet withal has there not been realised somewhat? Consider (to go no
further) these strong Stone-edifices, and what they hold! Mud-Town of
the Borderers (Lutetia Parisiorum or Barisiorum) has paved itself, has
spread over all the Seine Islands, and far and wide on each bank, and
become City of Paris, sometimes boasting to be 'Athens of Europe,' and
even 'Capital of the Universe.' Stone towers frown aloft; long-lasting,
grim with a thousand years. Cathedrals are there, and a Creed (or