Angel or demon! thou,—whether of light <br />The minister, or darkness—still dost sway <br />This age of ours; thine eagle's soaring flight <br />Bears us, all breathless, after it away. <br />The eye that from thy presence fain would stry <br />Shuns thee in vain; thy mighty shadow thrown <br />Rests on all pictures of the living day, <br />And on the threshold of our time alone, <br />Dazzling, yet sombre, stands thy form, Napoleon! <br /> <br />Thus, when the admiring stranger's steps explore <br />The subject-lands that 'neath Vesuvius be, <br />Whether he wind along the enchanting shore <br />To Portici from fair Parthenope, <br />Or, lingering long in dreamy reverie, <br />O'er loveliest Ischia's od'rous isle he stray, <br />Wooed by whose breath the soft and am'rous sea <br />Seems like some languishing sultana's lay,— <br />A voice for very sweets that scarce can win its way; <br /> <br />Him, whether Paestum's solemn fane detain, <br />Shrouding his soul with meditation's power; <br />Or at Pozzuloil, to the sprightly strain <br />Of tarantella danced 'neath Tuscan tower, <br />Listening, he while away the evening hour; <br />Or wake the echoes, mournful, lone and deep, <br />Of that sad city, in its dreaming bower <br />By the volcano seized, where mansions keep <br />The likeness which they wore at that last fatal sleep; <br /> <br />Or be his bark at Posillippo laid, <br />While as the swarthy boatman at his side <br />Chants Tasso's lays to Virgil's pleased shade,— <br />Ever he sees, throughout that circuit wide, <br />From shaded nook or sunny lawn espied, <br />From rocky headland viewed, or flow'ry whore, <br />From sea and spreading mead alike descried, <br />The Giant Mount, tow'ring all objects o'er, <br />And black'ning with its breath th' horizon evermore!<br /><br />Victor Marie Hugo<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/napoleon-3/
