NAPOLEON'S FAREWELL TO PARIS.

Farewell you splendid citadel, metropolis called Paris,
Where Phoebus every morning shoots forth refulgent beams,
Where Flora's bright aurora is advancing from the orient,
With fragrant light adorning the clear shining streams.
At eve when Centaur does retire to where the ocean gilds like fire,
And the universe stands to admire her merchandise and store,
Commanding Flora's fragrance the fertile fields to decorate,
And to illuminate the royal Corsican again upon the French shore.

My name is Napoleon Bonaparte I'm the conqueror of all nations,
I have banished German legions and sent Kings from their throne,
I have banished Dukes and Earls and splendid congregations,
But now they have transported me to Saint Helena's shore.
Like Hannibal I crossed the Alps, the burning sands and the rocky cliffs,
Over Russia's hills through frost and snow I still the laurels wore,
Now I'm on this desert island where the rats the devil they would affright.
Still I hope to shine in armour bright throughout Europe's land once more.

Some say the cause of my downfall was the parting with my consort,
To wed the German's daughter which grieved my heart full sore,
But the female train I n'eer shall blame for they did never me defame,
When they saw my sword in battle flame they then did me adore.
But I severely felt the rod for meddling with the house of God,
Icons and golden images in thousands down I tore,
I then stole Malta's golden gate, I did the works of God disgrace,
But if he grants me time and place back to him I'll them restore.

Well I'm in the allied yoke but with fire and sword I made them smoke,
I have conquered Dutch and Danes and I surprised the Grand Signeur,
I defeated Austrians and Russians, both Portuguese and Prussians,
Like the great King Alexander or proud Caesar of yore.
But my golden eagles were torn down by Wellington's allied armies,
And my troops all in disorder could no longer stand the field,
I was sold that very afternoon all on the eighteenth day of June,
Through lack of reinforcements I was forced then for to yield.

Exiled off the coast of Africa out in the Atlantic ocean,
For to view the wild commotion and the flowing of the tide,
Banished from the royal court of imperial promotion,
From the French throne of glory for to watch the billows glide.
For full three days I stood the plain my freedom's course for to maintain,
Many thousands there I did leave slain and covered in their gore,
I never fled without revenge nor to the allied armies cringed,
But now my sword is sheathed and Paris is no more.