Classic and Contemporary Poetry
NAPOLEON'S LAST VICTORY, by GEOFFREY DENNIS 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHRIST CHURCH MEADOWS, OXFORD by DONALD HALL OXFORD, THIRTY YEARS AFTER by JOHN UPDIKE THE SCHOLAR GIPSY by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE SPIRES OF OXFORD by WINIFRED MARY LETTS THE TALENTED MAN by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED SONNET: ON HAVING DINED AT TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD by JOHN CODRINGTON BAMPFYLDE THE BALLAD OF MY FRIEND by J. D. BEAZLEY LETTER TO B.W. PROCTOR, ESQ., FROM OXFORD; MAY, 1825 by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES A SONG OF THE HILLS AND MY FRIEND by GEOFFREY DENNIS |
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