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THE RETURN FROM ELBA.

Browned and scarred his face by war;

But to-night, with nervous rattle,

Beats he on his army drum;

In his eyes the fire of battle,

And his lips no longer dumb;

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On his breast a ribbon wears he,

Plain, but prized beyond compare, -

For the King but little cares he,

As he hums his chant de guerre!

And o'er all the pomp and splendor

Is a hush of strange suspense;

Laughing lips and bright eyes tender

Make in vain a poor defence.

For, erewhile the jest in drinking,

"To the 'Elban Violet' !"

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