That dreadful year I gird me to relate,
And now bent o'er my desk I hesitate.
Shall I go further on, or shall I stay?
O, France! O, grief! to see a star decay;
I feel the blush of rueful shame arise;
Plagues heaped on plagues, and woes on agonies.
Still must I on for truth and history;
The Age stands at the Bar! The witness - I.

From The Terrible Year