All Europe at his nod inclined
With terror dumb
Art thou his ape? March, march behind,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb
Napoleon by the cannon's light,
Through smoke and cloud,
Guided across the hottest fight
The eagle proud
He forced his way in, at Aicole
And out, with drum—
There’s gold for thee, regale thy soul,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb
Berlin, Vienna, Moscow,—all
Before him bent,
Not more an angel could appal
On vengeance sent
He! Forts and fields! He! Kings and chuals!
'Tis he succumb!
But thou,—for thee, lo, here are girls,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb
He rode o’er mountains and o’er plains,
And held confined
Within his palm, the guiding reins,
Of all mankind
His glories would the navies sink
So vast their sum!
For thee—see blood, come run and drink,
Tom Thumb, Tom Thumb
Dark, dark archangel—but he fell!
Earth felt the sound,
And ocean opened by a spell
Its gulf profound
