McMahon up the street of Paris came,
In triumph from Magenta. Every one
Had heard and praised the fearless marshal’s name,
And gloried in the deeds that he had done.
Crowds packed the walks, and at each seperate glass
A face was set to see the hero pass.
Grand music lifted in the morning air
Its eloquent voice. Loud-mouthed bells were rung,
Guns boomed till echoes welcomed everywhere;
On buildings and in streets proud flags were hung,