Page:The-knickerbocker-gallery-(knickerbockergal00clarrich).djvu/129

empty vault, which, for twenty years, enshrined the corpse of Napoleon. It is merely an oblong shaft of masonry, about twelve feet deep, and with a rude roof thrown over the mouth, to prevent it being filled by the rains. A little railing surrounds it, and the space between is planted with geraniums and scarlet salvias. Two willows—one of which has been so stripped by travellers that nothing but the trunk is left—shade the spot, and half-a-dozen monumental cypresses lift their tall obelisks around. A flight of steps leads to the bottom of the vault, where the bed of masonry which inclosed the coffin still remains. I descended to the lowest step, and there found, hanging against the damp wall, a written tablet stating that the old woman, then waiting for me at the top, told an admirable and excellent story about the burial of Napoleon, which travellers would do well to extract from her, and that one shilling was but a fair compensation for the pleasure she would afford them. Appended to the announcement were the following lines, which I transcribed on the spot:

    "Firmly strike my bounding lyre,    Poet's muse can never tire,    Nosegays gay and flowers so wild,    Climate good and breezes mild,    Humbly ask a shilling, please,    Before the stranger sails the seas.Napoleon was in love with a lady so true,He gave her a gold ring set with diamonds and pearls,Which was worthy the honors of many brave earls.But she died, it is amid, in her bloom and her beauty,    So his love broken-hearted    For over was parted.He drank of the spring and its water so clear,Which was reserved for his use, and he held it most dear.    So he died, so he died,    In the bloom of his pride,Like the victor of worlds in the tomb to abide,Though he conquered to conquer another beside.In his life he sat under you lone willow-tree,And studied the air, the earth, and the sea;His arms were akimbo, his thoughts far away.