Napoleon's Farewell

Farewell to the Land, where the gloom of my Glory 
Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name — 
She abandons me now — but the page of her story, 
The brightest or blackest, is rilled with my fame. 
I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only 
When the meteor of conquest allured me too far; 
I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, 
The last single Captive to millions in war. 

Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me, 
I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, — 
But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, 
Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. 
Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted 
In strife with the storm, when their battles were won — 
Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was blasted. 
Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun! 

Farewell to thee, France! — but when Liberty rallies 
Once more in thy regions, remember me then. 
The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys; 
Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it again. 
Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, 
And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice — 
There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us, 
Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!