 | John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion |  |
197
NAPOLEON
The heroes of the present & the pastWere puny vague & nothingness to thee
Thou grasped a span almighty to the last
& strained for glory when thy die was cast
That little island on the mighty sea
Was but a dust spot in a lake thy mind
Swept space as shoreless as eternity
Thy jiant powers outstript this gaudy age
Of heroes & as looking at the sun
Gazing upon thy greatness made them blind
To merits that had adoration won
In olden times—for leaving kings behind
The world was but a comma on thy page
Of victorys—& fame a crowded mind
That found no room such greatness to presage
Thy prophets now are a superior kind
To friends or enemies—for natures eye
Sweeps over space great shadows to reclaim
& time—thy fate thy monument & fame
Links thee with names that cannot fade or die
| John Clare: The Midsummer Cushion | |