ON NAPOLEON'S ESCAPE FROM ELBA.

ONCE fairly set out on his party of pleasure,

Taking towns at his liking, and crowns at his leisure,
From Elba to Lyons and Paris he goes,

Making balls for the ladies, and bows to his foes.

March 27, 1815.

ODE.

[FROM THE FRENCH.]

We do not curse thee, Waterloo!
Though Freedom's blood thy plain bedew ;
There 't was shed, but is not sunk-
Rising from each gory trunk,
Like the waterspout from ocean
With a strong and growing motion :
It soars and mingles in the air,
With that of lost LABEDOYERE-
-
With that of him whose honour'd grave
Contains the "bravest of the brave."
A crimson cloud it spreads and glows,
But shall return to whence it rose ;
When 't is full 't will burst asunder-

Never yet was heard such thunder

As then shall shake the world with wonder-
Never yet was seen such lightning,
As o'er heaven shall then be bright'ning!
Like the Wormwood Star foretold

By the sainted seer of old,

to the flames. As my music adapted to them, however, did not share the same fate, and having a contrary opinion of any thing that might fall from the pen of his lordship, I treasured them up, and on a subsequent interview with his lordship, I accused him of having committed suicide in making so valuable a burnt-offering: to which he smilingly replied, "The act seems to inflame you; come, Nathan, siace you are displeased with the sacrifice, I give them to you as a peace-offering; use them as you may deem proper."

Show'ring down a fiery flood,
Turning rivers into blood. *

The chief has fallen, but not by you,
Vanquishers of Waterloo!

When the soldier citizen

Sway'd not o'er his fellow-men-
Save in deeds that led them on

Where Glory smiled on Freedom's son-
Who, of all the despots banded,

With that youthful chief competed?
Who could boast o'er France defeated,

Till lone Tyranny commanded?
Till, goaded by ambition's sting,
The hero sunk into the king?
Then he fell ;-
-SO perish all,
Who would men by man enthral !

And thou too of the snow-white plume!
Whose realm refused thee even a tomb; †
Better hadst thou still been leading
France o'er hosts of hirelings bleeding,
Than sold thyself to death and shame
For a meanly royal name;
Such as he of Naples wears,
Who thy blood-bought title bears.
Little didst thou deem, when dashing

On thy war-horse through the ranks,
Like a stream which burst its banks,
While helmets cleft, and sabres clashing,
Shone and shiver'd fast around thee-
Of the fate at last which found thee.
Was that haughty plume laid low
By a slave's dishonest blow?
Once-as the moon sways o'er the tide,
It roll'd in air, the warrior's guide;
Through the smoke-created night
Of the black and sulphurous fight,

*See Rev. chap. viii, verse 7, &c. "The first angel sounded, and there followed bail and fire mingled with blood," &c.

Verse 8. "And the second angel sounded, and as it were a great mountain burning with fire was cast into the sea, and the third part of the sea became blood," &c. Verse 10 "And the third angel sounded, and there fell a great star from heaven, burning as it were a lamp; and it fell upon a third part of the rivers, and upon the fountains of waters."

Verse 11. And the name of the star is called Wormwood: and the third part of the waters became wormwood; and many men died of the waters, because they were made bitter."

+ Murat's remains are said to have been torn from the grave and burnt.

The soldier raised his seeking eye
To catch that crest's ascendency,-
And, as it onward rolling rose,
So moved his heart upon our foes.
There, where death's brief pang was quickest,
And the battle's wreck lay thickest,
Strew'd beneath the advancing banner
Of the eagle's burning crest-
(There with thunder-clouds to fan her,
Who could then her wing arrest-
Victory beaming from her breast?)
While the broken line enlarging
Fell, or fled along the plain :
There be sure was MURAT charging!
There he ne'er shall charge again!

O'er glories gone the invaders march,
Weeps Triumph o'er each levell'd arch-
But let Freedom rejoice,

With her heart in her voice;
But, her hand on her sword,

Doubly shall she be adored;

France hath twice too well been taught

The "moral lesson" dearly bought;
Her safety sits not on a throne,
With CAPET or NAPOLEON!

But in equal rights and laws,

Hearts and hands in one great cause

Freedom, such as God hath given

Unto all beneath his heaven,

With their breath, and from their birth,

Though Guilt would sweep it from the earth;

With a fierce and lavish hand

Scattering nations' wealth like sand;

Pouring nations' blood like water,

In imperial seas of slaughter!

But the heart and the mind,
And the voice of mankind,

Shall arise in communion

And who shall resist that proud union? The time is past when swords subdueddie-the soul's renew'd:

Man may

Even in this low world of care

Freedom ne'er shall want an heir,

Millions breathe but to inherit
Her for ever bounding spirit:
When once more her hosts assemble,
Tyrants shall believe and tremble.

Smile they at this idle threat?
Crimson tears will follow yet.

FROM THE FRENCH.*

MUST thou go, my glorious chief,
Sever'd from thy faithful few?
Who can tell thy warrior's grief,
Maddening o'er that long adieu ?
Woman's love, and friendship's zeal,
Dear as both have been to me-

What are they to all I feel,

With a soldier's faith for thee?

Idol of the soldier's soul!

First in fight, but mightiest now:

Many could a world control :

Thee alone no doom can bow.

By thy side for years I dared

Death, and envied those who fell,
When their dying shout was heard
Blessing him they served so well.

Would that I were cold with those,
Since this hour I live to see ;
When the doubts of coward foes

Scarce dare trust a man with thee,
Dreading each should set thee free.
Oh! although in dungeons pent,
All their chains were light to me,
Gazing on thy soul unbent.

Would the sycophants of him

Now so deaf to duty's prayer,
Were his borrow'd glories dim,
In his native darkness share?
Were that world this hour his own,
All thou calmly dost resign,
Could he purchase with that throne

Hearts like those which still are thine?

* "All wept, but particularly Savary, and a Polish officer who had been exalted from the ranks by Bonaparte. He clung to his master's knees; wrote a letter to Lord Keith, entreating permission to accompany him, even in the most menial capacity, which could not be admitted."

My chief, my king, my friend, adieu !
Never did I droop before;
Never to my sovereign sue,
As his foes I now implore.
All I ask is to divide

Every peril he must brave,
Sharing by the hero's side

His fall, his exile, and his grave.

ON THE STAR OF "THE LEGION OF HONOUR."

[FROM THE FRENCH.]

STAR of the brave!-whose beam hath shed

Such glory o'er the quick and dead—

Thou radiant and adored deceit !

Which millions rush'd in arms to greet,

Wild meteor of immortal birth!
Why rise in heaven to set on earth!

Souls of slain heroes form'd thy rays;
Eternity flash'd through thy blaze;
The music of thy martial sphere
Was fame on high and honour here;
And thy light broke on human eyes
Like a volcano of the skies,

;

Like lava roll'd thy stream of blood,
And swept down empires with its flood
Earth rock'd beneath thee to her base,
As thou didst lighten through all space;
And the shorn sun grew dim in air,
And set while thou wert dwelling there,