Poems (Hooper)/The Mask of Plaster
THE MASK OF PLASTER.Travelers at Dresden are shown a plaster cast taken from Napoleon's face immediately after death.
Thus looked the dead. Thus did Napoleon lie. O cold imperial face! E'en death could not eraseThe majesty from that uncrowned brow,Nor from that cold lip chase the winning smile That lit thy features proud, as sunset's glow Flushes with beauty some pale peak of snow,Throned in the Alpine sky.
What visions passed before those fading eyes Ere closed in death's eclipse?When "Téte d'armée—Josephine—Ma Mère" Dropped from the paling lips.Thy wife's dark eyes, thy noble mother's smile,And with those tender memories the whileCame the red battle, and th' exulting cry, "Napoleon—Victory!"And the bright past swept, glory-laden, by.
Thou didst behold o'er many a field Thy soaring eagle wave his plume,Until the sun of Austerlitz Went down in endless gloom—Went down o'er Waterloo, to riseNever again on earthly skies.To thee there never came a dawn, For thee there never beamed a star,Save when thine eye prophetic pierced The darkness, and beheld afarThe day-star of thy race arise, As radiant as when of yoreThe shadow of thy purple spread Its mighty wings from shore to shore.Behold! thy race upon the throne! Thy tomb a nation's hallowed shrine!Thy name the battle-shout of France! Thy memory a dream divine!But thou art sleeping, and no voice againWill wake thee from thy slumber by the Seine; And this pale visage only to our eyes Reveals thy mortal guise.
No battle thunder swept thee to thy rest; No hostile bullet stilled thy mighty heart.The slow shafts of the tropic air Played the assassin's part. Thou, conqueror of the world, didst pass away 'Mid enemies alone!(Thy prison a rock, thy jailer the wild sea!) A trailing willow and a nameless stoneWere all their churlish hands could grant thy clay. Yet not unhonored went thou to thy sleep: The tempest shrieked thy death-knell o'er the deep.Heaven sent its thunder for a requiem,And thine avenger is Eternity!