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THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON.

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

That which once was madly grand.

Once again Marengo's meadows,

Army-trod, before him lay,

Once again, at twilight's shadows,

Victory came with brave Desaix;

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Once again, the crown of iron

On his martial brow was placed,

Once again, like angry lion,

He the arms of Europe faced.

And across his features solemn

Something like a smile now flits,

And the Old Guard's serried column

Wins again at Austerlitz.

Now the smile to frown is changing,

And we hear a smothered sigh

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