The Tombs of July
Les tombeaux de Juillet
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
Charles spake: " It wanes, but, oh, may this July
Avenge my throne, that levellers attack;
Strike for the Lilies! " Paris quick reply,
" Strike for the Tricolor! " in arms gave back
" To threaten loud, to find us crouching low,
What deeds of thine to blind our eyes are told?
Him of the Pyramids ape not! Ah! no —
All, all thy sires his winding-sheet would hold.
" What! of a Charter we received the boon,
And to thy yoke thou wouldst subdue us all!
We know that thrones are shaken down full soon;
Just God! again a king who courts his fall!
" For, hark! a voice, from Heaven beyond dispute,
Deep in our hearts " Equality" hath cried
What means Equality? perchance, a route
By royal order to the weak denied!
" On! forward, forward! ours the Hotel-de-Ville!
Ours are the Quays! the Louvre is ours! our own! "
Triumphant crowds the royal refuge fill,
And take their seats upon the ancient throne
O noble people! modest, poor, and gay!
Masters, by bloodshed and by toil so great,
Who, laughing, drive detested Kings away;
And, starving, guard the treasures of the State!
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
There, soldiers of the Loire — there, laboring men —
There, scholars — tyros at the cannon — fell;
To you their victory bequeathed they then,
Nor cared that aught to us their names should tell
France to these heroes doth a temple owe;
Their fame afar a holy awe excites;
" How fares it now with Kings? " Kings whisper low;
Whom an example so sublime affrights
" What! must the Tricolor return? " they cry,
Their memories still reverting to the past;
And o'er them seems that standard from on high
Again the shadow of its folds to cast
As on, from realm to realm, in peace it flew,
Before St. Helena its course was stayed;
There on the extinct volcano rose in view
A giant phantom — 'twas Napoleon's shade
The hand of God uplifts him from the grave
" For thee I looked, my glorious flag! " he cries;
" Welcome! " He speaks; and flinging to the wave
His broken sword, mounts upward to the skies
This the last lesson his stern genius gave!
The sword's dominion found with him its close:
Endued with power earth's sceptres to enslave —
For his successor Liberty he chose
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
The titled faction, to corruption prone,
For this poor monument may little care;
The noble zeal by our avengers shown
To some mad tumult vainly may compare
Children, 'tis said, that ye, in dreams by night,
Gentlest communion with the angels hold;
Foretell a future, then, with praises bright —
That so these heroes' spirits be consoled.
Tell them, " God's eye upon your work is set;
No sad forebodings from our errors feel:
Long time, long time, hath Earth to tremble yet,
Beneath the blow your courage here could deal. "
Yes, thundering at our walls should Europe bring
Her score of nations — at their prompt retreat,
Forth from the dust they bore would Freedom spring —
The dust that gathered on their horses' feet
All earth shall wear Equality's bright hue;
Old laws are lost amidst a ruined scene
The Ancient World hath perished — of the New,
With Paris for her Louvre, is France the Queen!
Of these Three Days yours, children, is the fruit;
They, who lie there, for you the pathway trace:
Aye hath the blood of France marked out the route,
That to great ends conducts the human race
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
Charles spake: " It wanes, but, oh, may this July
Avenge my throne, that levellers attack;
Strike for the Lilies! " Paris quick reply,
" Strike for the Tricolor! " in arms gave back
" To threaten loud, to find us crouching low,
What deeds of thine to blind our eyes are told?
Him of the Pyramids ape not! Ah! no —
All, all thy sires his winding-sheet would hold.
" What! of a Charter we received the boon,
And to thy yoke thou wouldst subdue us all!
We know that thrones are shaken down full soon;
Just God! again a king who courts his fall!
" For, hark! a voice, from Heaven beyond dispute,
Deep in our hearts " Equality" hath cried
What means Equality? perchance, a route
By royal order to the weak denied!
" On! forward, forward! ours the Hotel-de-Ville!
Ours are the Quays! the Louvre is ours! our own! "
Triumphant crowds the royal refuge fill,
And take their seats upon the ancient throne
O noble people! modest, poor, and gay!
Masters, by bloodshed and by toil so great,
Who, laughing, drive detested Kings away;
And, starving, guard the treasures of the State!
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
There, soldiers of the Loire — there, laboring men —
There, scholars — tyros at the cannon — fell;
To you their victory bequeathed they then,
Nor cared that aught to us their names should tell
France to these heroes doth a temple owe;
Their fame afar a holy awe excites;
" How fares it now with Kings? " Kings whisper low;
Whom an example so sublime affrights
" What! must the Tricolor return? " they cry,
Their memories still reverting to the past;
And o'er them seems that standard from on high
Again the shadow of its folds to cast
As on, from realm to realm, in peace it flew,
Before St. Helena its course was stayed;
There on the extinct volcano rose in view
A giant phantom — 'twas Napoleon's shade
The hand of God uplifts him from the grave
" For thee I looked, my glorious flag! " he cries;
" Welcome! " He speaks; and flinging to the wave
His broken sword, mounts upward to the skies
This the last lesson his stern genius gave!
The sword's dominion found with him its close:
Endued with power earth's sceptres to enslave —
For his successor Liberty he chose
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
The titled faction, to corruption prone,
For this poor monument may little care;
The noble zeal by our avengers shown
To some mad tumult vainly may compare
Children, 'tis said, that ye, in dreams by night,
Gentlest communion with the angels hold;
Foretell a future, then, with praises bright —
That so these heroes' spirits be consoled.
Tell them, " God's eye upon your work is set;
No sad forebodings from our errors feel:
Long time, long time, hath Earth to tremble yet,
Beneath the blow your courage here could deal. "
Yes, thundering at our walls should Europe bring
Her score of nations — at their prompt retreat,
Forth from the dust they bore would Freedom spring —
The dust that gathered on their horses' feet
All earth shall wear Equality's bright hue;
Old laws are lost amidst a ruined scene
The Ancient World hath perished — of the New,
With Paris for her Louvre, is France the Queen!
Of these Three Days yours, children, is the fruit;
They, who lie there, for you the pathway trace:
Aye hath the blood of France marked out the route,
That to great ends conducts the human race
Children, let flowers in your pure hands be borne!
Palm-leaves, and flowers, and torches, children, bring!
Of our Three Days the funeral rites adorn:
All have their tombs — the People as the King!
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