 | The Josephine Gallery |  |
86
MARIE LOUISE.
Who journeys thus onward,
Light-hearted and gay,
As if to a triumph
She passed on her way?
No exile, most surely—
Not thus do they come,
Who are leaving behind them
A heart and a home.
Light-hearted and gay,
As if to a triumph
She passed on her way?
No exile, most surely—
Not thus do they come,
Who are leaving behind them
A heart and a home.
Can she go so lightly,
And joyously back,
Who went to her bridal
So late o'er this track?
Could she smile as when hastening
To welcoming arms,
If shut from the circle
Of home and its charms?
And joyously back,
Who went to her bridal
So late o'er this track?
Could she smile as when hastening
To welcoming arms,
If shut from the circle
Of home and its charms?
Oh, matchless in beauty,
And kingly in line!
No heart of a woman
Can surely be thine:
Else wouldst thou, this moment,
Thy husband uncrowned,
Weep in sackcloth and ashes,
And sit on the ground.
And kingly in line!
No heart of a woman
Can surely be thine:
87
Thy husband uncrowned,
Weep in sackcloth and ashes,
And sit on the ground.
Is this, proud Napoleon,
The pride of thy home?
Can this be thy mother,
O pale king of Rome?
Alas! we may mourn thee,
But pity who can,
More fickle than woman,
And falser than man.
The pride of thy home?
Can this be thy mother,
O pale king of Rome?
Alas! we may mourn thee,
But pity who can,
More fickle than woman,
And falser than man.
It was well that the exile,
Shut in by the sea,
Still might solace his anguish
By memory of thee—
Still could keep through all suffering,
Of body and mind,
One blest spot in memory
Where thou wert enshrined;
Shut in by the sea,
Still might solace his anguish
By memory of thee—
Still could keep through all suffering,
Of body and mind,
One blest spot in memory
Where thou wert enshrined;
Trusting on in a faith
Which no time could remove,
In the strength of thy virtue,
And depth of thy love;
For his heart, but for this,
In its hardness had been
As the rocks of the ocean
That girdled him in.
Which no time could remove,
In the strength of thy virtue,
And depth of thy love;
For his heart, but for this,
In its hardness had been
As the rocks of the ocean
That girdled him in.
88
Oh, regally wedded,
And regally born!
Not thy state nor thy beauty
Can save thee from scorn;
And more deeply we mourn thee,
Content in thy home,
Than the Emperor exiled,
Or dead king of Rome.
And regally born!
Not thy state nor thy beauty
Can save thee from scorn;
And more deeply we mourn thee,
Content in thy home,
Than the Emperor exiled,
Or dead king of Rome.
| The Josephine Gallery | |