I hated thee, fallen tyrant! I did groan <br />To think that a most unambitious slave, <br />Like thou, shouldst dance and revel on the grave <br />Of Liberty. Thou mightst have built thy throne <br />Where it had stood even now: thou didst prefer <br />A frail and bloody pomp which Time has swept <br />In fragments towards Oblivion. Massacre, <br />For this I prayed, would on thy sleep have crept, <br />Treason and Slavery, Rapine, Fear, and Lust, <br />And stifled thee, their minister. I know <br />Too late, since thou and France are in the dust, <br />That Virtue owns a more eternal foe <br />Than Force or Fraud: old Custom, legal Crime, <br />And bloody Faith the foulest birth of Time.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/feelings-of-a-republican-on-the-fall-of-bonapart/
