Though wit may flash from fluent lips, and mirth distract the breast, Through midnight hours that yield no more their former hope of rest; 'Tis but as ivy-leaves around the ruin'd turret wreath, All green and wildly fresh without, but worn and grey beneath. Oh could I feel as I have felt, or be what I have been, Or weep as I could once have wept o'er many a vanish'd scene; As springs in deserts found seem sweet, all brackish though they be, So, midst the wither'd waste of life, those tears would flow to me. 20 March, 1815. ODE FROM THE FRENCH I We do not curse thee, Waterloo ! Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew ; Rising from each gory trunk, Like the water-spout from ocean, As then shall shake the world with wonder- As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning! By the sainted Seer of old, Show'ring down a fiery flood, ΤΟ 20 II The Chief has fallen, but not by you, When the soldier citizen Sway'd not o'er his fellow-men- Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son-- With that youthful chief competed? Who would men by man enthral ! 30 III And thou, too, of the snow-white plume! Once as the moon sways o'er the tide, And, as it onward rolling rose, So moved his heart upon our foes. There, where death's brief pang was quickest, 60 (There with thunder-clouds to fan her, IV O'er glories gone the invaders march, With her heart in her voice; Doubly shall she be adored; France hath twice too well been taught 66 The moral lesson" dearly bought Her safety sits not on a throne, With Capet or Napoleon! 70 80 But in equal rights and laws, Hearts and hands in one great cause Freedom, such as God hath given Unto all beneath his heaven, With their breath, and from their birth, Scattering nations' wealth like sand; Pouring nations' blood like water, V But the heart and the mind, And the voice of mankind, Shall arise in communion And who shall resist that proud union? 90 The time is past when swords subdued- NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL [FROM THE FRENCH] I 100 FAREWELL to the Land where the gloom of my Glory I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, The last single Captive to millions in war. II Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me, ΙΟ I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted In strife with the storm, when their battles were wonThen the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted, Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun! III 20 Farewell to thee, France !-but when Liberty rallies Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice! FARE THEE WELL FARE thee well! and if for ever, Would that breast were bared before thee Would that breast, by thee glanced over, Though the world for this commend thee— Even its praises must offend thee, Founded on another's woe: Though my many faults defaced me, Than the one which once embraced me, Yet, oh yet, thyself deceive not; ΤΟ 20 |