Incident of the French Camp

Incident of the French Camp

YOU know, we French stormed Ratisbon:

   A mile or so away

On a little mound, Napoleon

   Stood on our storming-day;

With neck out-thrust, you fancy how,

   Legs wide, arms locked behind,

As if to balance the prone brow

   Oppressive with its mind.

Just as pehaps he mused, "My plans

   That soar, to earth may fall,

Let once my army-leader Lannes

   Waver a yonder wall," --

Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew

   A rider, bound on bound

Full-galloping; nor bridle drew

   Until he reached the mound.

Then off there flung in smiling joy,

   And held himself erect

By just his horse's mane, a boy:

   You hardly could suspect --

(So tight he kept his lips compressed,

   Scarce any blood came through)

You looked twice ere you saw his breast

   Was all but shot in two.

"Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's grace

   We've got you Ratisbon!

The Marshal's in the market-place,

   And you'll be there anon

To see your flag-bird flap his vans

   Where I, to heart's desire,

Perched him!" The chief's eye flashed; his plans

   Soared up again like fire.

The chief's eye flashed; but presently

   Softened itself, as sheathes

A film the mother-eagle's eye

   When her bruised eaglet breathes:

"You're wounded!" "Nay", the soldier's pride

   Touched to quick, he said:

"I'm killed, Sire!" And his chief beside,

   Smiling the boy fell dead.

Robert Browning (1812-1889)

Sources:

Blair, Bob:
http://www.geocities.com/~bblair/990519.htm

Public domain text taken from The Poets' Corner:
http://www.theotherpages.org/poems/brown02.html#14

CST Approved.