ON NAPOLEON.

NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL.

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Farewell to the land where the gloom (1) of my glory
Arose and o'ershadowed (2) the earth with her name!
She abandons me now; but the page of her story,
The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame.
I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only
When the meteor of conquest allured me too far;

I have coped with (3) the nations that dread me thus lonely,
The last single captive to millions in war.

Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crowned me
I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth-
But thy weakness decrees, I should leave as I found thee,
Decayed (4) in the glory and sunk (5) in thy worth.
Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted (6) ́

In strife with the storm, when their battles were won-
Then the Eagle whose gaze in that moment was blasted (7)
Had still soared with eyes fix'd on victory's sun.

ON NAPOLEON.

But where is he the modern mightier far (8)
Who born no king, made monarchs draw his car,

(1) The gloom, le nuage,

le tourbillon.

(2) To o'ershadow, couvrir de son ombre.

(3) To cope with, lutter avec, tenir tête à. (4) Decayed, dans la décadence.

(5) Sunk, ruiné, perdu, enfoncé.

(6) Wasted, perdu.

(7) Blasted, flétri.

(8) Mightier far, plus puissant de beaucoup.

The new Sesostris, whose unharness'd (1) kings
Freed from the bit (2), believe themselves with wings,
And spurn the dust o'er which they crawled of late,
Chain'd to the chariot of the chieftain's state?
Yes! where is he, the champion and the child
Of all that's great or little, wise or wild (5)?

BYRON.

REFLEXIONS.

ON THE LONG DEBATES IN THE CHAMBERS CONCERNING THE
CONSTITUTION THAT WAS TO BE PROPOSED TO BONAPARTE
AFTER HIS RETURN FROM ELBA; AND AT THE MOMENT THE
ALLIES WERE UNITING ALL THEIR FORCES TO MARCH AGAINST
THE FRENCH CAPITAL.

Oh! 'twas not then a time for tame bebates (4),
Ye men of Gaul, when chains were at your gates;
No, 'twas not then the time to weave a net (5)
Of bondage round your chief; to curb and fret (6)
Your veteran war-horse, pawing (7) for the fight,
When every hope was in his speed and might -

(1) Unharnessed, délivré du harnais, dételé. (2) Freed from the bit, délivré du mors.

(3) Wise or wild, spirituel ou insensé.

(4) Tame debates, discussions éternelles, pleines de tiédeur, vaines.

(5) To weave a net, jeter un filet, embarrasser.

(6) To curb and fret, tourmenter, retenir un cheval, serrer la gourmette.

(7) To paw, piaffer.

MY BIRTHDAY.

To waste (1) the hour of action in dispute,

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And calmly plan how freedom's boughs should shoot (2),
When your invader's axe was at the root.

For in that hour were France (3) my native land,
I would have followed with quick heart and hand
Napoleon, Nero, nay, no matter whom,

To snatch my country from that damning doom (4).
True he was false-despotic-all you please-
Had trampled down (5) man's holiest liberties,
Had, by a genius form'd for nobler things,
Than lie within the grasp (6) of vulgar kings
But raised the hopes of men-as eaglets fly
With tortoises aloft into the sky-

To dash them down (7) again more shatteringly (8),
All this I own, but still **** * * * * * * * *

MY BIRTHDAY.

MOORE.

66 My birthday!"

What a different sound

That word had in my youthful ears!

And how, each time the day comes round,
Less and less white its mark appears!

(1) To waste, perdre.

(2) To shoot, en parlant des plantes, signifie pousser.
(3) Were France, si la France eût été.

(4) Damning doom, horrible destinée.
(5) To trample down, fouler aux pieds.
(6) Within the grasp, à la portée.

(7) To dash down, écraser.

(8) More shatteringly, d'une manière plus destructive.

When first our scanty years (1) are told,
It seems like pastime to grow old;

And, as youth counts the shining links (2),
That time around him binds so fast,
Pleas'd with the task he little thinks
How hard that chain will press at last.
Vain was the man, and false as vain,
Who said," Were he ordain'd to run
"His long career of life again,

"He would do all that he had done. ".
Ah, 'tis not thus the voice that dwells (5)
In sober birthdays (4) speaks to me;
Far otherwise-of time it tells,
Lavish'd (5) unwisely, carelessly-
Of counsel mock'd-of talents, made
Haply (6) for high and pure designs,
But oft, like Israel's incense (7), laid
Upon unholy, earthly shrines-
All this it tells, and, could I trace
The imperfect picture o'er again (8),
With power to add, retouch, efface
The lights and shades, the joy and pain,

(1) Scanty years, peu d'années.

(2) The shining links, les anneaux brillants. (5) To dwell, rester, demeurer.

(4) Sober birthdays, l'âge mûr.

(5) Lavished, prodigué, dépensé follement.
(6) Haply, pour perhaps, peut-être.
(7) Israel's incense, l'encens des Juifs.

(8) O'er again, de nouveau.

THE GOLDEN IDOL.

How little of the past would stay!

How quickly all should melt away!

MOORE.

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THE GOLDEN IDOL, OR THE PIOUS GOLDSMITH (1).

I have seen this anecdote somewhere in prose, but not having recollected it till the first part of the book was printed off,

I have attempted to recite it in verse.

A certain Rajah, as we're told,

Wanted a Krishnu (2) of pure gold,
Idol of virtues manifold,

But doubted much obtaining it.
For e'en as now, in times of old,
The age, by poets styled, of gold,
Trusting the metal to the mould
Was easier than regaining it.

So pondering long on measures best
To put the goldsmiths to the test,
His mind was long deprived of rest

Ere he could well mature one.

At length a plan so well arranged,

SADLER.

The precious ore could not be changed,

(1) Goldsmith, orfèvre, de gold, or, et smith, fèvre, fabre, ouvrier, qui frappe.

(2) Krishnu ou Krexno, idole des Bramines ou Brachmanes, prêtres indiens.