The Contemporary English View of Napoleon

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G. Bell & sons, Limited, 1914 - 311 páginas
 

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Página 234 - ANOTHER year ! — another deadly blow ! Another mighty Empire overthrown ! And We are left, or shall be left, alone ; The last that dare to struggle with the Foe. 'Tis well ! from this day forward we shall know That in ourselves our safety must be sought ; That by our own right hands it must be wrought ; That we must stand unpropped, or be laid low.
Página 256 - Yes ! where is he, the champion and the child Of all that's great or little, wise or wild ? Whose game was empires, and whose stakes were thrones ? Whose table earth — whose dice were human bones ? Behold the grand result in yon lone isle, And, as thy nature urges, weep or smile.
Página 259 - Leave the millions who follow to mould The metal before it be cold, And weave into his shame, which like the dead Shrouds me, the hopes that from his glory fled.
Página 247 - The Desolator desolate ! The Victor overthrown ! The Arbiter of others' fate A Suppliant for his own ! Is it some yet imperial hope That with such change can calmly cope ? Or dread of death alone ? To die a prince — or live a slave — Thy choice is most ignobly brave...
Página 258 - Thou mightst have built thy throne Where it had stood even now: thou didst prefer A frail and bloody pomp which Time has swept In fragments towards Oblivion. Massacre, For this I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept, Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Lust, And stifled thee, their minister. I know Too late, since thou and France are in the dust, That Virtue owns a more eternal foe Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.
Página 248 - Who bowed so low the knee ? By gazing on thyself grown blind Thou taught'st the rest to see. With might unquestioned, power to save, Thine only gift hath been the grave To those that worshipped thee ; Nor till thy fall could mortals guess Ambition's less than littleness ! Thanks for that lesson.
Página 248 - Thine evil deeds are writ in gore, Nor written thus in vain — Thy triumphs tell of fame no more, Or deepen every stain : If thou hadst died as honour dies, Some new Napoleon might arise, To shame the world again — But who would soar the solar height, To set in such a starless night ? Weigh'd in the balance, hero dust Is vile as vulgar clay; Thy scales, Mortality!
Página 191 - The brilliant and sometimes dazzling expression of his eye could not be overlooked. It was not, however, a permanent lustre, for it was only remarkable when he was excited by some point of particular interest. It is impossible to imagine an expression of more entire mildness, I may almost call it of benignity and kindliness, than that which played over his features during the whole interview.
Página 286 - He still seems to us a man of consummate conduct, valour, and decision in war, but without the virtues or even the generous and social vices of a soldier of fortune, — of matchless activity indeed, and boundless ambition, but entirely without principle, feeling, or affection, suspicious, cruel, and overbearing ; — selfish and solitary in all his pursuits and gratifications ; proud and over-weening to the very borders of insanity ; — and considering at last the laws of honour and the principles...
Página 231 - I shrunk, for verily the barrier flood Was like a Lake, or River bright and fair, A span of waters; yet what power is there! What mightiness for evil and for good! Even so doth God protect us if we be Virtuous and wise: Winds blow, and Waters roll...

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