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Six Alexander's Desk
Some nearly threescore years and ten,
In times of doubt and war-gloom,
You fastened it yourself with care—
A shrine which held two hearts laid bare—
And thus inscribed the packet:
'If I should fall, as fall I may,
Bury this in my grave, I pray;'
Then donned your martial jacket,
And galloped off to face the foe
Upon the field of Waterloo,
Where, one long June day,
Cannon and musket, sword and lance,
Did, in our hands, for men of France
A lively tune play.
And in that dance of fiery sounds
You lost two horses, gained two wounds,
A flag, some female pity
From her who nursed you, brought you round,
Though doctors doomed you to the ground
In Belgic city.
