Classic Poem

On the grim and crowded tumbrils high he reared his giant frame,
While the doubtful crowd seemed awe-struck at the murmuring of his name
“Sight most strange,” he muttered, “strangest e'en these blood-stained streets have seen;
I, the fiercest of the Tribunes, passing to the guillotine.
Not in all those maddened millions, tossing wild with flame and steel,
Who with deadly blaze and thunder shook the towers of the Bastille—
Not in all that furious rabble flaunting with the oak-leaf sign,
Burnt a heart as hot as Danton's, clenched a hand as rich as mine!
Bear you the Tricolour yonder? Fling its colours over me,
Chief or captive, let me perish neath the flag of Liberty.
Liberty for whom I laboured, Liberty for whom I sinned,
Let me see her banner o'er me, flapping in the mighty wind:
As it flapped of old above us, where the serried pikes did glance,
When our thunder cry was swelling the awakened voice of France!
When we all were young and hopeful in the old time long ago,
When we scathed their haughty nobles under wild old Mirabeau!
Dost thou see us, old commander, somewhere in the still abyss?
Dost thou see the mighty union of thy children come to this?
Ay, throng thick thou yelling rabble, read with screams the shameless sky,
As ye thronged to see your tyrants, throng to see your champion die.
Well may dark St. Juste regard me with an ugly look, askance;
I am going, he is staying, well for me and ill for France.
Well may Monsieur David yonder mark me with artistic eye,
Let him tell his pale Maximilien, Danton did not fear to die.
Let him tell his cold Dictator that his time shall also come—
See his blood on yonder hatchet, hear his knell on yonder drum;
And my murdered blood shall choke him as he gasps the coward's lie
And there mobs cajoled recall me as they watch the tyrant die;
And we now have reached the scaffold, and we all are near the end;
Good Camille, you will be faithful to your old Cordelier friend.
Nay, I first, my friends, the greatest must receive the foremost lot,
And my name will be remembered—it were better far forgot!
Friends, farewell, and be ye witness Danton dies without a fear.
Dear Camille, may God be with you—Monsieur Samson, I am here.”