Page:A Sheaf Gleaned in French Fields.djvu/128

Rh

grandeur dazzled history;
 * The god of war,

A star he was,—a mystery,
 * To nations far.

All Europe at his nod inclined
 * With terror dumb.

Art thou his ape? March, march behind,
 * Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb.

Napoleon by the cannon's light,
 * Through smoke and cloud,

Guided across the hottest fight
 * The eagle proud.

He forced his way in, at Arcole
 * And out, with drum—

There's gold for thee, regale thy soul,
 * Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb.

Berlin, Vienna, Moscow,—all
 * Before him bent,

Not more an angel could appal
 * On vengeance sent.