The Legend of Genevieve with other tales and poems. By Delta [i.e. David Macbeth Moir] |
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STANZAS
ON THE
DEATH OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE. |
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 | The Legend of Genevieve |  |
97
STANZAS ON THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON BUONAPARTE.
The knell hath toll'd, and the mighty hath gone
To the dust, like a thing forsaken;
No more shall the dread Napoleon
At the summons of Fame awaken!
To the dust, like a thing forsaken;
No more shall the dread Napoleon
At the summons of Fame awaken!
Thou did'st not die on the tented plain,
With thy martial legions round thee;
But a captive, girt with the gnawing chain
In which the nations bound thee!
With thy martial legions round thee;
But a captive, girt with the gnawing chain
In which the nations bound thee!
Thou did'st not fade like a lightning flash,
When thunder-clouds bend lowly;—
Thou did'st not sink like a torrent's dash;
But silently pined, and slowly.
When thunder-clouds bend lowly;—
Thou did'st not sink like a torrent's dash;
But silently pined, and slowly.
98
A hundred battles were fought and won;—
Tens of thousands fell beside thee;
And thine eagle soar'd, with its eyes to the sun,
As if all but success was denied thee.
Tens of thousands fell beside thee;
And thine eagle soar'd, with its eyes to the sun,
As if all but success was denied thee.
Thy name did sound a watch-word of fear,—
A spell, like the earthquake and thunder;
The nations did crouch, as thy banners drew near,
In the depth of amazement and wonder!
A spell, like the earthquake and thunder;
The nations did crouch, as thy banners drew near,
In the depth of amazement and wonder!
The sceptre fell from the regal hand;
And Liberty saw but one token
In Europe, the seat of her ancient command,
That her sway was resistless, though broken.
And Liberty saw but one token
In Europe, the seat of her ancient command,
That her sway was resistless, though broken.
'Twas in Britain the stedfast heart did remain,
Through the terrors and tempest of danger,
That the patriot glow'd, while he scoff'd at the chain,
That was forged for his neck by the stranger.
Through the terrors and tempest of danger,
That the patriot glow'd, while he scoff'd at the chain,
That was forged for his neck by the stranger.
'Twas to Britain the iron-bound captive gazed,
When Thraldom's low dungeon he enter'd;
'Twas in Britain the bulwark of Freedom was raised,
And the hopes of the earth were centred.
When Thraldom's low dungeon he enter'd;
'Twas in Britain the bulwark of Freedom was raised,
And the hopes of the earth were centred.
99
For the Swede, all unnerved, did succumb from fight,
The Italian lay down by his fountain,
The bright star of Prussia was clouded by night,
The Switzer had fled to the mountain:
The Italian lay down by his fountain,
The bright star of Prussia was clouded by night,
The Switzer had fled to the mountain:
The Austrian struggled, yet bow'd to the yoke,
And Muscovy trembled before thee;
Till Frost, like a giant, the talisman broke,
And withering ruin came o'er thee!
And Muscovy trembled before thee;
Till Frost, like a giant, the talisman broke,
And withering ruin came o'er thee!
Still the warrior's power was but subdued
For a season—more strength to gather;
Then forth to burst, like a torrent renew'd,
To spread like flame o'er the heather.
For a season—more strength to gather;
Then forth to burst, like a torrent renew'd,
To spread like flame o'er the heather.
And all was vain,—had not Wellington come,
His charger to thine opposing;
When Waterloo echoed the trump and drum,
And thy hosts with his were closing.
His charger to thine opposing;
When Waterloo echoed the trump and drum,
And thy hosts with his were closing.
Then did the star of thy victories set,
And Night's black cloud came o'er thee,
And thy fate, all boastful and bright as yet,
To a human level bore thee.
And Night's black cloud came o'er thee,
And thy fate, all boastful and bright as yet,
To a human level bore thee.
100
Shame to the bard who would raise his voice,
One hostile feeling to cherish;
Shame to the Briton that dare rejoice,
When the fallen and mighty perish!
One hostile feeling to cherish;
Shame to the Briton that dare rejoice,
When the fallen and mighty perish!
For thou did'st rise 'mid summer's skies,
Like an eagle all sunward soaring;
And thou stood'st the shock, unmoved as the rock,
When Adversity's storm was roaring.
Like an eagle all sunward soaring;
And thou stood'st the shock, unmoved as the rock,
When Adversity's storm was roaring.
| The Legend of Genevieve | |