70

75

80

85

90

95

was blue,

Morbleu! Parbleu!

But to march back again from Moscow.

The Russians they stuck close to him

All on the road from Moscow. There was Tormazow and Jemalow And all the others that end in ow; Milarodovitch and Jaladovitch And Karatschkowitch,

And all the others that end in itch;
Schamscheff, Souchosaneff,
And Schepaleff,

And all the others that end in eff;
Wasiltschikoff, Kostomaroff,

And Tchoglokoff,

And all the others that end in off;
Rajeffsy and Novereffsy,
And Rieffsky,

And all the others that end in effsky;
Oscharoffsky and Rostoffsky,
And all the others that end in offsky;
And Platoff he play'd them off,
And Shouvaloff he shovell'd them off,
And Markoff he mark'd them off,
And Krosnoff he cross'd them off,
And Tuchkoff he touch'd them off,
And Boroskoff he bored them off,
And Kutousoff he cut them off,
And Parenzoff he pared them off,
And Worronzoff he worried them off,
And Doctoroff he doctor'd them off,
And Rodionoff he flogg'd them off.
And last of all an Admiral came,
A terrible man with a terrible name,

his God,

Worse and worse every day the ele-
ments grew,

The fields so white and the sky so blue,
Sacrebleu! Ventrebleu !1

What a horrible journey from Moscow!
120 What then thought the Emperor Nap
Upon the road from Moscow ?
Why, I ween he thought it small delight
To fight all day, and to freeze all night:
And he was besides in a very great fright,
For a whole skin he liked to be in;
And so, not knowing what else to do,
When the fields were so white and the sky
so blue,

125

130

135

140

Morbleu! Parbleu!

He stole away, I tell you true,

Upon the road from Moscow.

'Tis myself, quoth he, I must mind most; So the Devil may take the hindmost.

Too cold upon the road was he, Too hot had he been at Moscow; But colder and hotter he may be, For the grave is colder than Muscovy: And a place there is to be kept in view Where the fire is red and the brimstone

blue,

Morbleu! Parbleu!
Which he must go to,

If the Pope say true,

If he does not in time look about him;
Where his namesake almost

He may have for his Host,

He has reckon 'd too long without him;
If that host get him in Purgatory,
He won't leave him there alone with his

glory;

But there he must stay for a very long

day.

For from thence there is no stealing

away

150 As there was on the road from Moscow.

1 French oaths.

2 After being successful in a number of engagements against Napoleon in the winter of 181314, the allies made proposals for peace.

20

25

If this heroic land,

False to her feelings and unspotted fame,
Hold out the olive to the tyrant's hand!
Woe to the world, if Buonaparte's throne
Be suffer'd still to stand!

For by what names shall right and
wrong be known,

What new and courtly phrases must we feign

For falsehood, murder, and all mon-
strous crimes,

If that perfidious Corsican maintain
Still his detested reign,

And France, who yearns even now to
break her chain,

Beneath his iron rule be left to groan?
No! by the innumerable dead
Whose blood hath for his lust of power
been shed,

30 Death only can for his foul deeds atone; That peace which Death and Judgment can bestow,

That peace be Buonaparte's, that alone! For sooner shall the Ethiop change his skin,

Or from the leopard shall her spots depart,1

35 Than this man change his old flagitious heart.

45

50

55

Bold man and bad,

Remorseless, godless, full of fraud
and lies,

And black with murders and with
perjuries,

Himself in Hell's whole panoply he clad;
No law but his own headstrong will
he knew,

No counsellor but his own wicked heart. From evil thus portentous strength he drew,

60 And trampled under foot all human ties, All holy laws, all natural charities.

O France! beneath this fierce barba-
rian's sway

Disgraced thou art to all succeeding
times;

Rapine, and blood, and fire have mark'd thy way,

65 All loathsome, all unutterable crimes. A curse is on thee, France! from far and wide

70

75

It hath gone up to Heaven. All lands have cried

For vengeance upon thy detested head! All nations curse thee, France! for wheresoe'er

In peace or war thy banner hath
been spread,

All forms of human woe have follow'd

there.

The living and the dead

Cry out alike against thee! They who bear, Crouching beneath its weight, thine iron yoke,

Join in the bitterness of secret prayer The voice of that innumerable throng, Whose slaughter'd spirits day and night invoke

The Everlasting Judge of right and

wrong.

1 See Paradise Lost, 4, 108.

100

Greedy of war, when all that thou
couldst gain

Was but to dye thy soul with deeper crime,
And rivet faster round thyself the chain.
O blind to honor, and to interest blind,
When thus in abject servitude resign'd
To this barbarian upstart, thou
couldst brave

God's justice, and the heart of human

kind!
Madly thou thoughtest to enslave the
world,

Thyself the while a miserable slave. Behold the flag of vengeance is unfurl'd! The dreadful armies of the North

advance;

While England, Portugal, and Spain combined,

Give their triumphant banners to the wind, And stand victorious in the fields of

France.

One man hath been for ten long

wretched years

115

120

Revenge thy sufferings and thy shame! By the bones which bleach on Jaffa's beach;

By the blood which on Domingo's shore
Hath clogg'd the carrion-birds with
gore;

By the flesh which gorged the wolves of
Spain,

Or stiffen'd on the snowy plain
Of frozen Moscovy;

By the bodies which lie all open to the sky,
Tracking from Elbe to Rhine the
tyrant's flight;

By the widow's and the orphan's cry; By the childless parent's misery; By the lives which he hath shed; By the ruin he hath spread; 125 By the prayers which rise for curses on his head;

130

Redeem, O France! thine ancient fame, Revenge thy sufferings and thy shame, Open thine eyes! too long hast thou been blind;

Take vengeance for thyself, and for mankind!

By those horrors which the night Witness'd, when the torches' light To the assembled murderers show'd Where the blood of Condé flow'd; By thy murder'd Pichegru's fame;

tears;

One man in this most awful point

of time

Draws on thy danger, as he caused thy

crime.

Wait not too long the event, For now whole Europe comes against thee bent,

His wiles and their own strength the nations know:

Wise from past wrongs, on future peace intent,

The people and the princes, with one mind, 105 From all parts move against the general foe: