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Does the fatal Waterloo
To Napoleon's mind recall
Martialed armies into view
Trooping through his prison wall?

Amid Russia's frozen snow,
Over Egypt's burning sands,
Do his armored warriors go
At their leader's stern commands?

Does the eagle, that has won
Victory's zenith for his brow,
Brighter than the noon-day sun,
Thrill with pride his bosom now?

Or does she, the Empress Queen,
Careless of his hopeless fate,
Grace his life's brief closing scene
In her royal robes of state?

Is her name upon his lips
Who his crown and crime could share,
Watch his glory's dark eclipse
And forsake his deep despair?

One face only does he see
Fresh on recollection's scroll;
One loved name, one memory
Soothes at last his troubled soul.

She, the wronged, the fair, the good,
Victim of ambition's greed,
In her injured womanhood
Can she soothe him in his need?

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