The thunderbolt was launch'd that hour,[1]
Berlin, that smote thy royal tower!
That sign the living deluge roll'd,
By Poland's dying groan foretold.
One rising sun, one bloody setting shone,
And dust and ashes were on Frederick's throne!
Talk of the necromancer's spell!
In forest depths, in magic cell,
Was never raised so fierce a storm,
As when thy solitary form
Into the troubled air its wild spells hurl'd,
Thou sullen shaker of a weary world.
I saw thee once again. 'Twas morn:
Sweet airs from summer fields were borne,
The sun was in the laughing sky;
I saw thy startling limbs outfly,
And felt, that in that hour I saw the birth
Of some new curse, that might have clouded earth.
The soundless curse went forth—it pass'd.
'Twas answer'd by the trumpet blast,
'Twas answer'd by the cannon roar,
Pale Danube, on thy distant shore.
That sign of woe let loose the iron horde
That crush'd in gore the Hapsburg helm and sword![2]
Again I look'd—'twas day's decline:
Thy mount was purple with the vine;
The clouds in rosy beauty slept,
The birds their softest vesper kept;
The plain, all flowers, was one rich-painted floor,
And thou, wild fiend, even thou, wast still once more.
I saw thee from thy slumber start;
That blow was, Russia, to thy heart!
That hour the shaft was shot, that rent
The curtains of the Tartar tent.
That voiceless sign to wolf and vulture cried,
Come to your fiercest feast of Homicide.
Then swept the sword, and blazed the shell,
Then armies gave the dying yell;
Then burning cities lit the gloom,
The groans of Empire in its doom!
Till all was death—then came the final ban,
And Heaven broke down the strength too strong for man.[3]\
Then earth was calm. I saw thee sleep—
Once more I saw thy thin arms sweep.
Napoleon's blazing star was wan!
The master of the Talisman
Was dungeon'd far upon the ocean-wave—
Thine were the silent tidings of his grave.[4]
Alcmæon.
