Skip to content

- George Herbert

The harbingers are come. See, see their mark;

White is their colour, and behold my head.

But must they have my brain? must they dispark

Those sparkling notions, which therein were bred?

...

Read full poem

noun

A fight involving three or more individuals, teams, or factions; fought until one person, team, or faction is left standing.

Know more

Chapter 341 of 365

5 min read

The flood of nations begins to subside into its normal channels. The waves of the great movement abate, and on the calm surface eddies are formed in which float the diplomatists, who imagine that they have caused the floods to abate.

But the smooth sea again suddenly becomes disturbed. The diplomatists think that their disagreements are the cause of this fresh pressure of natural forces; they anticipate war between their sovereigns; the position seems to them insoluble. But the wave they feel to be rising does not come from the quarter they expect. It rises again from the same point as before—Paris.

Chapter 341

1 / 7

← → keys or swipe to turn pages