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I then could go to Carcassonne,
My God and Father ! pardon me
If this my wish offends ! One sees some hope more high than he, In age as in his infancy,
To which his heart ascends !
But I have not seen Carcassonne,
Thus sighed a peasant, bent with age,
Half dreaming in his chair.
Those streets that seem so fair.”
INCIDENT OF THE FRENCH
You know we French stormed Ratisbon :
A mile or so away,
Stood on our storming-day ;
Legs wide, arms locked behind,
Oppressive with its mind.
Just as, perhaps, he mused, “ My plans
That soar, to earth may fall, Let once my army-leader Lannes
Waver at yonder wall,”— Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew
A rider bound on bound
Until he reached the mound.
Then off there flung in smiling joy,
And held himself erect
You hardly could suspect,
Scarce any blood came through)
Was all but shot in two.
“Well,” cried he, “Emperor, by God's grace
We've got you Ratisbon !
And you 'll be there anon
Where I, to heart's desire,
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," his soldier's
pride Touched to the quick, he said : “I'm killed, sire !” And, his chief beside,
Smiling, the boy fell dead.