Classic Poem

Advanced to wear the Gallic Crown,
The Bourbon monarch prostrate low,
The powers supreme that put him down
May disregard Napoleon too:
Though guarded by a chosen band
Of chieftains, trained to his command,
Will they prove true, will they prove true?

Yes! Fortune may be false at last,
And to the ground Napoleon cast:
To speak my mind,
She has designed
Some sudden turn in Europe's wheel ,
And she may turn it soon! —
Though on a throne, a height so grand,
Upon that height I would not stand
For all below the moon.

For round him dogs unnumbered growl,
And distant wolves , still lowder, howl,
And vultures scream; and tigers roar;
And nations are disgusted more
With regal rank that he assumes;
More rancour boils within the breast,
And more this sudden change detest
Than human wisdom overcomes!

The lost Republic greets him not!
Her memory is a fatal blot
On his renown, on his renown! —
He swore to keep a nation free
That had relapsed to anarchy,
He swore to guard democracy,
Not hurl it down, not hurl it down!

Oh, grand mistake! what can atone
For mischiefs, then so rashly done!
Now Europe hugs her chains:
Had France remained republican ,
And sanctioned there , the Rights OF MAN ,
All would have been secure, and free
From tyrants and from tyranny,
That soon may rise again.