Where all, who play their game too deep, Must hazard life, and discord reap, Or thrown from grandeur's giddy steep, Lament their fate. Napoleon, with an empty chest! An austrian princess must detest; And yet, she wears upon her breast The painted toy;[A] [A] A miniature picture of the late emperor Napoleon.--_Freneau's note._ And often weeps, the story goes, That royal blood not wholly flows In every vein, from head to toes, Of her dear boy. To Elba's isle she could not go-- The royal orders said "No, no! On Elba's island we bestow No royal throne:" And thus Napoleon, shoved from power, Has many a lonely gloomy hour To walk on Elba's sea-beat shore, Alone! alone! O save us from ambition's sway, Ye powers, who tread the milky way; It will deceive, it will betray Nine out of ten. Napoleon's history let us read: In science he was great indeed-- Ambition's lantern did mislead This prince of men:-- And yet, ambition had its use, It check'd the royal game of goose, And many a flagrant vile abuse Fell at his frown. But, doom'd to share immortal fame, Despotic powers will dread his name, Though he, perhaps, was much the same, Raised to a throne! THE PRINCE REGENT'S RESOLVE The regent prince, enraged to find The standard from his frigates torn, To a full court thus spoke his mind, With hand display'd and soul of scorn, "Since fate decreed Napoleon's fall, Now, now's the time to conquer all! "We at the head of all that's great, Tis ours to hold the world in awe: Let Louis reign in regal state, And let his subjects own his law; Their tide of power tis ours to stem-- We'll govern those who govern them. "But here's the rub, and here's my grief; My frigates from the seas are hurl'd! What shall we do? how find relief? How strike and stupefy the world? Our flag, that long control'd the main, Our standard must be raised again. "A land there lies towards the west There must my royal will be done; That land is an infernal nest Of reptiles, rul'd by Madison: That nest I swear to humble down, There plant a king, and there a crown. "Depart, my fleet, depart, my slaves, Invade that nest, attack and burn; Where'er the ocean rolls his waves, Subdue, or dare not to return; Subdue and plunder all you can, Who plunders most--shall be my man. "To scatter death, by fire and sword, To prostrate all, where'er you go: That is the mandate, that the word, Though seas of blood around you flow: No more!--go, aid the indian yell: Be conquerors, and I'll feed you well.