Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry.
Volume VIII. National Spirit. 1904. | | | | IV. Peace | | The Grave of Bonaparte | | Lyman Heath (1804–1870) |
| | | ON a lone barren isle, where the wild roaring billows | |
| Assail the stern rock, and the loud tempests rave, | |
| The hero lies still, while the dew-drooping willows, | |
| Like fond weeping mourners, lean over the grave. | |
| The lightnings may flash, and the loud thunders rattle: | 5 |
| He heeds not, he hears not, he ’s free from all pain;— | |
| He sleeps his last sleep—he has fought his last battle! | |
| No sound can awake him to glory again! | |
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| O shade of the mighty, where now are the legions | |
| That rushed but to conquer when thou led’st them on? | 10 |
| Alas! they have perished in far hilly regions, | |
| And all save the fame of their triumph is gone! | |
| The trumpet may sound, and the loud cannon rattle! | |
| They heed not, they hear not, they ’re free from all pain: | |
| They sleep their last sleep, they have fought their last battle! | 15 |
| No sound can awake them to glory again! | |
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| Yet, spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee, | |
| For, like thine own eagle that soared to the sun, | |
| Thou springest from bondage and leavest behind thee | |
| A name which before thee no mortal had won. | 20 |
| Though nations may combat, and war’s thunders rattle, | |
| No more on the steed wilt thou sweep o’er the plain: | |
| Thou sleep’st thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle! | |
| No sound can awake thee to glory again! | | | | |
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