Classic Poem

Towards France there journeyed two grenadiers
Who had long been prisoners in Russia;
But they drooped their heads as they crossed the frontiers,
And trod on the soil of our Prussia.

'Twas then the sad tidings reached them first
That France overthrown had retreated,
That the Grande Armée was routed, dispersed,
And the Emperor captive, defeated.

Then they fell a-weeping, those grenadiers,
The terrible tidings learning;
And one of them said: “How the old pain sears,
How my old wound is burning!”

The other said: “The song is sung,
And I would die with thee gladly,
But at home I have wife and children young,
And those will need me sadly.”

“Children and wife—who cares for these?
For such let me not be entreated;
If they're starving, let them go beg as they please—
The Emperor captive, defeated!”

“But if I should die, grant me this one request:
Oh, brother, see that thou move me,
That my corse in the soil of France may rest
With the fresh turf of France above me.

“And see that the cross with its ribbon be placed
On my heart ere in earth thou hide me,
And gird my sword about my waist,
And lay my musket beside me.

“So, listening in silence, evermore
In my grave like a sentry staying,
I will wait till I hear the cannon's roar,
And the charging coursers neighing.

“I shall know that the Emperor rides o'er my grave,
While swords clash on swords affrighted,
And seizing my arms I will rise from my grave,
That the Emperor, God bless him! be righted.”