Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE GRAVE OF BONAPARTE, by LEONARD HEATH


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE GRAVE OF BONAPARTE, by                    
First Line: On a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billows
Last Line: No sound can awake thee to glory again!
Subject(s): Graves; Napoleon I (1769-1821); Peace; Tombs; Tombstones


ON a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring
billows
Assail the stern rock, and the loud tempests
rave,
The hero lies still, while the dew-drooping wil-
lows,
Like fond weeping mourners, lean over the
grave.
The lightnings may flash, and the loud thunders
rattle:
He heeds not, he hears not, he's free from all
pain; --
He sleeps his last sleep - he has fought his last
battle!
No sound can awake him to glory again!

O shade of the mighty, where now are the legions
That rushed but to conquer when thou led'st
them on?
Alas! they have perished in far hilly regions,
And all save the fame of their triumph is gone!
The trumpet may sound, and the loud cannon
rattle!
They heed not, they hear not, they're free from
all pain:
They sleep their last sleep, they have fought their
last battle!
No sound can awake them to glory again!

Yet, spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee,
For, like thine own eagle that soared to the
sun,
Thou springest from bondage and leavest behind
thee
A name which before thee no mortal had won.
Though nations may combat, and war's thunders
rattle,
No more on the steed wilt thou sweep o'er the
plain:
Thou sleep'st thy last sleep, thou hast fought
last battle!
No sound can awake thee to glory again!




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