EAGLE of Austerlitz! where were thy wings When far away upon a barbarous strand, In fight unequal, by an obscure hand, Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kings! Poor boy! thou wilt not flaunt thy cloak of red, Nor ride in state through Paris in the van Of thy returning legions, but instead Thy mother France, free and republican, Shall on thy dead and crownless forehead place The better laurels of a soldier's crown, That not dishonoured should thy soul go down To tell the mighty Sire of thy race That France hath kissed the mouth of Liberty, And found it sweeter than his honied bees, And that the giant wave Democracy Breaks on the shores where Kings lay crouched at ease. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LITTLE GIRL LOST, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE PINES AND THE SEA by CHRISTOPHER PEARSE CRANCH THE FALLEN STAR by GEORGE DARLEY UPON JULIA'S BREASTS by ROBERT HERRICK A PRAISE OF HIS LADY by JOHN HEYWOOD EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 1 by LUCY AIKEN |