In coils of a vile rope was hung;
When we beheld at the grand column's base,
And o'er a shrieking cable bowed,
The stranger's strength that mighty bronze displace
To hurrahs of a foreign crowd;
When, forced by thousand arms, head-foremost thrown,
The proud mass cast in monarch mould
Made sudden fall, and on the hard, cold stone
Its iron carcass sternly rolled.
The Hun, the stupid Hun, with soiled, rank skin,
Ignoble fury in his glance,
The emperor's form the kennel's filth within
Drew after him, in face of France!
On those within whose bosoms hearts hold reign,
That hour like remorse must weigh
On each French brow,--'tis the eternal stain,
Which only death can wash away!
I saw, where palace-walls gave shade and ease,
The wagons of the foreign force;
I saw them strip the bark which clothed our trees,
To cast it to their hungry horse.
I saw the Northman, with his savage lip,
Bruising our flesh till black with gore,
Our bread devour,--on our nostrils sip
The air which was our own before!

In the abasement and the pain,--the weight
Of outrages no words make known,--
I charged one only being with my hate:
_Be thou accursed, Napoleon!_
O lank-haired Corsican, your France was fair,
In the full sun of Messidor!
She was a tameless and a rebel mare,
Nor steel bit nor gold rein she bore;
Wild steed with rustic flank;--yet, while she trod,--
Reeking with blood of royalty,
But proud with strong foot striking the old sod,
At last, and for the first time, free,--
Never a hand, her virgin form passed o'er,
Left blemish nor affront essayed;
And never her broad sides the saddle bore,
Nor harness by the stranger made.
A noble vagrant,--with coat smooth and bright,
And nostril red, and action proud,--
As high she reared, she did the world affright
With neighings which rang long and loud.
You came; her mighty loins, her paces scanned,
Pliant and eager for the track;
Hot Centaur, twisting in her mane your hand,
You sprang all booted to her back.
Then, as she loved the war's exciting sound,
The smell of powder and the drum,
You gave her Earth for exercising ground,
Bade Battles as her pastimes come!
Then, no repose for her,--no nights, no sleep!
The air and toil for evermore!
And human forms like unto sand crushed deep,
And blood which rose her chest befo