I. <br />Farewell to the Land where the gloom of my Glory <br />Arose and o'ershadow'd the earth with her name-- <br />She abandons me now--but the page of her story, <br />The brightest or blackest, is fill'd with my fame. <br />I have warr'd with a world which vanquish'd me only <br />When the meteor of conquest allured me too far; <br />I have coped with the nations which dread me thus lonely, <br />The last single Captive to millions in war. <br /> <br />II. <br />Farewell to thee, France! when thy diadem crown'd me, <br />I made thee the gem and the wonder of earth, <br />But thy weakness decrees I should leave as I found thee, <br />Decay'd in thy glory, and sunk in thy worth. <br />Oh! for the veteran hearts that were wasted <br />In strife with the storm, when their battles were won <br />Then the Eagle, whose gaze in that moment was lasted, <br />Had still soar'd with eyes fix'd on victory's sun! <br /> <br />III. <br />Farewell to thee, France!--but when Liberty rallies <br />Once more in thy regions, remember me then, <br />The violet still grows in the depth of thy valleys; <br />Though wither'd, thy tear will unfold it <br />Yet, yet, I may baffle the hosts that surround us, <br />And yet may thy heart leap awake to my voice <br />There are links which must break in the chain that has bound us, <br />Then turn thee and call on the Chief of thy choice!<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/napoleon-s-farewell-from-the-french/
