Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, NAPOLEON'S LAST VICTORY, by GEOFFREY DENNIS



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

NAPOLEON'S LAST VICTORY, by                    
First Line: In the keen wild days when france swept clean
Last Line: Napoleon entered in.
Subject(s): Napoleon I (1769-1821); Oxford University


IN the keen wild days when France swept clean
The world from all the old things that had been,
And used for a broom the guillotine, --
The doors of Fame were open wide,
Yet no great soul had passed inside,
though all beheld them.
A young man, hungry, marvellous-eyed,
Born and bred on the mountain-side
In an island washed by the Great Sea's tide
Stood at the doors alone, outside,
And beheld them.
In soldier's garb he led away,
For the fame of France and in her pay,
An army tattered, gaunt and gay.
He caught the Austrians where they lay,
Among the plains of Lombarday,
And in five battles huge, men say,
He felled them;
Till he who in renownless shame
Had longed to enter in,
With bright victorious banners came
And marched far through the doors of Fame.
With the golden crown of a mighty name
Napoleon entered in.
In the loud hard days when He swept clean
The world from all the old kings that had been,
And used for a broom his strong sword keen, --
Europe's every royal street
Came out in lowly fear to greet
The conquering thunder of his feet,
(Rome, Madrid, Berlin);
He heaped their cities up with dead;
He placed a crown upon his head;
And then with loud imperial tread
Napoleon entered in.
Their people died, their cities burned,
Too long the bread of woe they earned,
Till the shuddering nations he had spurned
Upon their mighty conqueror turned,
And fought him.
With spirit wild and armies free
(This is the tale they tell to me)
They beat the mighty Emperor. He
Lost his crown. He turned to flee.
But the English said, "That may not be":
To a lonely isle of the southern sea
They brought him,
Whose rocky coast enclosed him fast
As an iron gin,
Enclosed him, caged him till the last,
Till through the gates where the dead have passed
Napoleon entered in.

In the harsh dark days when king and priest
From fear of France and the Man released
O'er the cowed peoples held high feast, --
The glad news sped,
"The Man is dead" --
So now that was the end of him.
The kings grew bold,
They took firm hold,
And slaughtered many a friend of him.
'Twas not the end, that lonely death
(For Death is never the end, God saith)
On an islet kissed by the far sea's breath,
That body coffined-in.
The end came on a far-off day
Twenty years ahead, men say,
When with sound of guns and the cannon's boom
They bore him to a stately tomb
'Neath the dome of a mighty pantheon-room
The heart of Paris in,
When a wave of glorious sorrow swept
Through the men of France. They joyed, they wept.
His bones came in. To their feet they leapt,
And the French King sprang to his kingly feet
A mightier than himself to meet,
A greater than himself to greet,
And the flower of France assembled there
Stood in solemn silence there,
Their heads in sorrowing reverence low,
When with splendour of tears and pomp of woe
Napoleon entered in.





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