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.

150 As there was on the road from Moscow.

1 French oaths.

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

Who counsels peace, when Vengeance

like a flood

5 Rolls on, no longer now to be repress'd; When innocent blood

From the four corners of the world cries out

For justice upon one accursed head; When Freedom hath her holy banners spread

10 Over all nations, now in one just

cause

United; when with one sublime accord Europe throws off the yoke abhorr'd, And Loyalty and Faith and Ancient Laws Follow the avenging sword!

15 Woe, woe to England! woe and endless

20

25

shame,

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

How long, O Lord! Holy and Just, how long!

80 A merciless oppressor hast thou been, Thyself remorselessly oppress'd meantime;

85

90

95

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

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;

One man in

tears;

this most awful point

of time

110

France! if thou lovest thine ancient fame,