XXXVII.

And they who waited once and worshipped—they

With their rough faces thronged about the bed

To gaze once more on the commanding clay

Which for the last, though not the first, time bled;

And such an end! that he who many a day

Had faced Napoleon's foes until they fled,—

The foremost in the charge or in the sally,

Should now be butchered in a civic alley.

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