Classic Poem

The Shade of Sir Hudson Lowe speaks: —

" Here in the green Elysian fields, by the babble of Lethe's brook,
With many a slope that fronts the sun and many a shaded nook,
I stretch my length on the asphodel and read Lord Rosebery's book.

Over my head in the oak tree boughs that the sunshine filters through
The green leaves dance in the summer breeze and laugh in the cloudless blue;
They dance as I read Lord Rosebery's book; they laugh — and I laugh too!

For I read of the island compassed round by the far Atlantic main,
Where Bonaparte was my prisoner, the island of Ste. Helene,
Where the Corsican Ogre paced his cage and beat on its bars in vain!

Once they had shut him in Elba's Isle, in the azure inland sea,
But 'twas easy to break his prison there; he fled to France and was free;
So at last they gave him to me to guard, and he could not escape from me !

He claimed to rank as an emperor yet; I brushed the claim aside;
I bent the tyrant's neck to the yoke, I humbled the upstart's pride,
And he fretted against my steadfast will till his courage failed and he died!

And here in the green Elysian fields, by the babble of Lethe's brook,
I read the comments Lord Rosebery makes in his recently published book
On the claims of General Bonaparte and the attitude I took.

It seems he's shocked at the things I did, and he sheds a pitying tear
At the Corsican's terrible times with me — and, indeed, his whole career.
Well, England must judge between Hudson Lowe and this dilettante peer!

But if this is the stuff of which England makes Prime Ministers to-day,
When a new Napoleon rises up there'll be the deuce to pay;
And before it's over I rather think she'll sigh for Castlereagh!